


Tales from Before the Tower

by SpiceFlux



Category: Shovel Knight
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Implied/Referenced Sex, Minor Violence, Multi, PG-13 profanity, PG-13 sexuality, Slow Burn, Stealing is wrong but this fic depicts it, specter of torment spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiceFlux/pseuds/SpiceFlux
Summary: Before he was Specter Knight, he was Donovan, a small time thief in the village known as the Lich Yard. Then he met a runaway aristocrat named Luan, and both their lives were changed forever.A longform Donovan & Luan backstory fic. Tagged for character death, but if you played Specter of Torment, you knew that already lol. (he's literally named Specter Knight. nobody should be surprised) None of the other major content warnings apply, though.Updates every few days when I feel like it lol
Relationships: Donovan & Luan, Donovan / Luan, Luan Seatlan / OC, Luan Seatlan/Specter Knight, Propeller Knight/Specter Knight, the prospecter is sparse but not nonexistent so i tagged for it
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Where It All Starts

**Author's Note:**

> I try to write my fics to be canon compliant, but these twos' canonical backstories are extremely patchy, so I'll be filling in generously with OCs and extra set dressing as needed. I'll do my best to stay within the spirit of the source material.
> 
> Romantic in nature? Primarily Donovan & Luan (platonic) with the possibility of Donovan/Luan (romantic) undertones later in the story, so I tagged for both. Also Reize comes from somewhere, so expect Luan/OC at some point. (EDIT Feb 26 2021: Also other relationships as demanded by the plot, bearing in mind that this is still primarily a Donovan and Luan centric fic)
> 
> This is my first time writing anything remotely ship-centric, but even so, expect a slow burn, and expect understatement from my writing style. I don't do hot and spicy sex scenes, but I am here to do this story justice.
> 
> Also, I make no promises that I will finish this fic. You have been warned lol (EDIT Jan 16th 2021: Ok I think I'm invested enough in this that I will likely finish it lol)
> 
> Down the self-indulgent rabbit hole we go!

Long ago, the lands were untamed and roamed by legendary adventurers.

Among these were a few foremost gems like Shovel Knight and Shield Knight. After decades of training (and with the benefit of lineage fit to impress a king), they were dubbed Knights of Pridemoor Keep. Since the land had not known war for some time, they patrolled the land, keeping the peace and occasionally vanquishing dangerous beasts.

There would one day come a knight by the name of Specter Knight-- a tall, imposing figure clad in a red cloak, a member of the undead, and the head of an army of undead soldiers. His name would strike fear into the hearts of the Valley as he carried out the will of the Enchantress, who sought to rule the region with an iron fist.

But that wouldn't be for years to come. Before he became Specter Knight, he was Donovan, a serious, steely-eyed youth running the streets of the graveyard-bordering village known as Richyard.

That was the official name, of course. But the village's geography placed it in a basin within the Valley and filled its air with clouds almost every day of the year. Between that and the strange supernatural creatures that were rumored to stalk the fields at night, the villagers had taken to calling it the "Lich Yard" as a joke.

It had been generations since any rich people had lived in Richyard, of course. Who in their right mind would take residence in a dreary place like that when the Village proper was a short horse ride away? There you could have sunlight, good food, good juice, and polite society all at once. The Lich Yard lacked all four.

\--- 

The people of Richyard knew to be on their guard around Donovan. The problem wasn't his lack of family, nor the fact that he mysteriously kept his face covered at all times, although they certainly didn't help his reputation. No, rumor had it the town guard had caught him stealing some half a dozen times, and he had a famous temper that he didn't care to restrain. When Donovan walked the streets, fearful mothers would corral their children and the guardsmen would instinctively reach for their scabbards.

Nobody knew where he went during the day, but he was always sure to come out at night, just as the migratory merchants and vendors went to pack away their merchandise. It is on one such night that we begin our story, because it is the night that Donovan met a young man named Luan Seatlan.

\--- 

Donovan was sixteen years old. His faded blue cloak, dyed as cheaply as possible with local ectoplasm many years back, was threadbare in spots and clumsily patched in others. Donovan himself was skin and bones, the end result of being chronically underfed. His dark eyes passed over his surroundings with quiet appraisal. 

As the sun went down, the people of the village retreated to their homes, and the warmth of candlelight illuminated their windows, one by one. 

He ignored his pangs of hunger. They would only distract him from his prize, whatever it may be. The least reputable merchants could be found for a few more hours or so. If he got lucky and found something worth pawning before then, he'd get to eat tonight.

He stalked the streets, eyes poring over the land before him. The Lich Yard was not a nice town, and the people knew well enough to lock up what few valuables they had. But Donovan knew his way around a basic lock or two.

One such lock restricted the doors of the local armory shop. Today was Donovan's lucky day, then. Some different thieves had broken the old lock a few days before, and the owner had stationed a pair of sellswords to guard the place while he fashioned a new one. And, lucky for Donovan, the new one was shoddy work.

The streets were empty and the shop lights extinguished, so Donovan set to work. He'd accumulated a small collection of garbage that he used as lock-picking tools, and though they were far from professional, they could get the job done in a pinch. Besides, the armorer's lock only had one tumbler in it. What was this, amateur night?

It didn't take long at all for the lock to snap open in his hands. Donovan sneered and quietly entered the shop.

The windows let in very little light from the outdoors, but Donovan knew better than to light a candle. That was a surefire way to draw attention and get caught. And despite his reputation, he did know what he was doing. He'd only been caught three times, all three under the age of 14… and all three for stealing food. He'd been let off easy by the town guard because of his age and situation, he knew that now.

He was past that point now.

Donovan navigated the armorer's storefront primarily by touch, his gloved hands skimming over the countertops with practiced grace. Some of the weapons he could tell by touch were worthless. But some of the others…

A pair of voices from outside disrupted this train of thought. The town guard. Donovan ducked to the floor, well out of sight of the windows. His heart pounded.

The voices outside passed harmlessly from one wall of the storefront to the other. And still Donovan stayed on the ground, still as a statue. He'd wait until they were out of sight, and then he would grab some of the pricier pieces and leave.

Donovan was about to breathe a sigh of relief and do exactly that when a crashing sound rang out from the other side of the store.

Donovan's eyes went wide. Someone else was here. And they'd blown his cover…

Sure enough, he heard shouting from outside. How was he going to get out of this…

"Sorry, sorry!" a voice said cheerfully. Donovan looked over to a youth roughly his age with tangled, matted hair and a mischievous grin.

Donovan shot him a death glare, but it was too dark for the youth to see. 

"Who goes there?!" a voice shouted from outside.

"Look, this has all been a misunderstanding," the youth said easily. "I'm just going to--" Then the youth stepped backwards and tripped over a suit of armor. The crashing metal noise may as well have been the crash cymbal of an orchestra.

"Hey, get out and put your hands where we can see them!" A town guard said menacingly. Two silhouettes entered the dark room.

Donovan sat frozen on the floor. On the one hand, he could probably stay there on the ground and escape detection if he got lucky.

But on the other hand… there were only two guards out at the moment.

He could take two.

Donovan stood up and grabbed the first blade he saw from the storefront-- a medium-length sword that curved at the end. It would do. 

He leapt from his hiding spot, darted behind guard #1, and pressed his blade to the man's throat.

"Just leave this place," Donovan whispered. The man stiffened in his grasp, probably struck with fear. Perfect.

The other guard moved to draw his weapon, but the youth from the floor swept his legs from under him with a nearby chair, knocking him to the floor. Donovan took that as his cue to leave and bolted out the door.

He heard footsteps following behind him, but instead of looking back, he darted into an alleyway.

"Hey, wait up!" a voice called. But it wasn't the voice of a town guard.

It was that kid from earlier. Donovan didn't get a good look, though. Instead, he grabbed the kid's arm and yanked him into an alleyway.

"Hey, what are you--" the kid protested, but Donovan put a finger to his scarf-covered lips. He moved a barrel out of the way, revealing a hole in the ground.

Donovan clambered in and gestured for the kid to follow, which he did, albeit uneasily.

Once secure inside the hole, Donovan moved the barrel back on top, and a pair of footsteps ran by overhead.

They were safe.

Now Donovan pulled out some flint and a small torch.

"What were you thinking?!" he yelled.

The kid looked taken aback. He was probably 15 years old, short and scrawny, with a thin, tan face and brown eyes. His dark hair was matted and tangled.

"I just… I saw you go in, and I…"

"What, you wanted me to get caught?" Donovan cut him off.

The kid looked guilty. "No, I just thought I could… help?"

Donovan eyed the kid's clothing. It was expensive looking. Leather boots, tailored pants, and was that shirt … silk? Donovan didn't know fabrics, but he knew he'd get a good price for it from the merchants, even with the road grime that had damaged it.

But he just shook his head.

"Just go home," he said, sounding frustrated. "You clearly belong somewhere. So go there and leave me alone."

The kid looked at the floor, suddenly downcast.

"I don't," he said hollowly. "Belong anywhere, I mean."

Donovan frowned, not sure whether to believe him.

The kid stared at the well of the hiding place. "My parents died a few days ago. They were pretty rich, and when they died, a bunch of family came to take over the house and stuff. They wanted me to go move to the Armor Outpost out East, but I told them that was stupid."

Donovan scowled. "So you ran away? That's way more stupid."

The kid punched the floor. "No it wasn't! They were gonna send me to live with my uncle, and he's evil! I'd rather die than live with him!" 

Donovan looked away. "At least he'd probably feed you."

The kid shook his head. "My mom said never to eat anything he gives me."

"That's weird advice," Donovan said back. Sounds like a weird rich person problem.

The kid stood up proudly. "Besides, I don't need him! I'm gonna be the best knight ever, and I don't need a dumb uncle for that!"

Donovan shook his head. "Knights are the worst. You don't want to be a knight anyway. All they do is wander around on their horses and do whatever the king tells them to. They're all a bunch of jerks."

The kid frowned. "No they're not!"

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "If they're so good, then go back home and become one. See how much they like the fact you got caught stealing.

The kid had nothing to say to that.

"What was your name, anyway?" Donovan said casually.

"Luan Seatlan," the kid said with a grin. 

"That's a rich person name, alright. I'm Donovan. Just… just Donovan."

Luan stood up and made a big show of bowing.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir!" he said stiffly.

Donovan laughed. Was this kid serious?

"Anyway, what is this place?" Luan asked, looking at the red brick walls around him.

"The catacombs," Donovan replied as he held the torch away from him. A deep tunnel extended into the darkness.

"A long time ago, this used to be a fancy rich person town. They made these tunnels for some reason. You can find old bones and stuff down here."

"Ew!" Luan shouted. "Like, bodies, too?"

Donovan chuckled and held the torch under his chin, casting strange flickering shadows on his covered face.

"Not just any bodies," he said ominously. "But the bodies of the undead, wandering the earth as zombies and skeletons. And sometimes ghosts, too. They say the people who die here never leave…"

Luan's eyes were wide with fear. "No, you're just making that up!" he protested, but the quiver in his voice gave him away.

"Why would I make that up?" Donovan said with an evil laugh. "You can see for yourself. Because there's something RIGHT BEHIND YOU!"

Luan shrieked and turned around. The torch light reflected eerily off a brick carving of a skull. Luan practically jumped out of his skin.

He screamed and Donovan laughed.

"That's… that's not funny!" Luan shouted while Donovan continued to laugh. "How would you like it if-- eek, it's the town guard!"

Donovan flinched in spite of himself.

"See?!" Luan accused.

"I knew you were faking it," Donovan said casually.

"Nuh-uh!" Luan shot back. "You jumped!"

"Psh," Donovan scoffed. He leaned back on the barrel he was sitting on. "I wouldn't jump. It was totally fake--AUGH"

He leaned too far and fell backwards into the brick.

Luan laughed. Donovan sat back up, rubbing his head. Then Luan's stomach grumbled, cutting the laughter short.

Donovan stared. Luan looked embarrassed.

"Not used to missing dinner, are you?" Donovan said bitterly.

Luan looked away.

Donovan sighed and stood up. "Well, I got this sword from the armorer, so I can probably sell it for some food if I'm quick. Might get us some bread at least.

"Wait…" Luan said suddenly. "I snuck these out when I left home." He opened his pockets to reveal a bag of gemstones in all kinds of brilliant colors, each the size of Donovan's thumbnail.

Donovan's eyes just about bugged out of his skull. "Where the hell did you... What?! That's more money then I've seen in my entire life!"

Luan shrugged. "This is probably enough for a loaf of bread, right?"

Donovan blinked. This kid had no idea how much he was carrying. He was gonna get chewed up and spat out by the world.

He sighed. "Luan, that's worth way more than a piece of crummy bread. You're gonna stick with me, and I'm gonna make sure you get what it's worth, ok? And in return, you're gonna cover my food for a few days."

Luan grinned. "And then when you have to steal something again, I'll go with you. We'll be partners in crime!"

Donovan laughed. This kid had a weirdly romanticized notion of what life on the streets was like. But… that was ok.

"Partners in crime," he said, smiling under his face covering. But his smile reached the corner of his eyes, and Luan saw it.


	2. To the Village

Donovan showed Luan back to his hideout, and before they knew it, three months had passed.

As promised, Donovan was able to fetch a good price for the gems from the merchants--enough gold to buy dinner for that night, and for many more besides. By carefully rationing the gems and bartering with the local baker and butcher, he got enough food for both of them to eat three solid meals a day.

Luan seemed to be treating the whole affair like a stay at a summer camp of some kind, and often remarked at what a relief it was to not have to practice the lute anymore.

The two passed a lot of time sword-fighting with some broken broom handles Donovan found lying around. Luan claimed to have been formally trained in fencing and passed on some tips, but Donovan had keener reflexes and wasn't afraid to play dirty. They had a lot to learn from each other.

And when they weren't doing that, chances were just as good that they could be found out in the woods catching frogs. Or maybe playing other silly games and getting into mischief.

Of course, the summer days passed into a chilly autumn, and things got harder.

Donovan kept a meager hideout in the catacombs. He had a hammock for him and now a hammock for Luan, and the place was cluttered with odds and ends they'd picked up from around town. It got drafty at night, though, and their gold had very nearly run out.

"It's time," Donovan decided. "We'll need more food and winter clothing soon. Unless you have any more of those jewels, we'll have to find a new way to make money."

Luan laughed. "Fresh out, Donovan," he said with a shrug.

"Ok, then here's what I'm thinking," Donovan said conspiratorially. "There's a larger village not far from here. Before winter sets in completely, we can go there and start casing potential jobs. If we're lucky, we can get some money that way and come back here. Nobody will be the wiser."

Luan paused and nodded. "They won't notice it's missing," he decided. "They have so much other money and stuff."

"That's the spirit," Donovan said with a wry smile. "We'll have to take food with us for the journey, and winter clothes for travel, so we can spend the last of the jewels on that. Problem is, we won't be coming back until we get more money. Is that ok?"

Luan grinned. "We're the best thieves anywhere. We'll be back in no time."

**\---**

The next day, they hit the road. 

The remaining gems had only purchased some travel rations and a winter cloak for Luan. And while Luan's boots were in top condition, he had nearly outgrown them. Meanwhile, the soles on Donovan's secondhand shoes had already nearly worn through before they even started. 

Both boys found themselves crafting makeshift bandages from nearby foliage as they traveled, since the blisters on their feet would overwhelm them if they didn't. Even so, Donovan had to be careful to make sure they didn't push themselves too fast or too far. Though he and Luan were within a year of each others' ages, there was a lot of practical knowledge that Luan simply didn't have, and Donovan found himself growing protective of him.

"Why do we have to stop?" Luan whined. "I'm fine!"

Donovan shook his head. "We've walked for eight hours today, and we're only at the halfway mark. We ought to conserve our energy."

"But I want to get there faster!"

Donovan frowned slightly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you bandaging the blisters on your feet."

Luan wrinkled his nose. "It's nothing! I can walk through it."

Donovan shook his head. "If you walk through it, you'll only make tomorrow's journey harder. No, we should camp here."

Luan made a show of complaining, but once he sat down, he seemed to appreciate the rest. Donovan gathered some nearby branches and weeds and started a fire.

"Here, I got some stuff to go in the fire!" Luan said brightly, carrying an armful of green grass and fresh branches.

Donovan chuckled in spite of himself. "You can't use fresh grass for a fire," he said wryly. "It won't burn in the fire. It has to already be dead."

Luan's face fell.

Donovan frowned a bit in concern. "I mean, it's ok. You didn't know. And now you know for next time."

Luan ignored him and warmed his hands on the fire.

The two were silent for a long moment.

"You know the rule of the campfire, right?" Donovan said, his eyes crinkling in a smile.

Luan shook his head.

"Well, it's not a real campfire unless you tell stories," Donovan said matter-of-factly. "It's true!"

Luan gave a sad chuckle. "I don't have any stories worth telling," he said quietly as he stared at the fire.

Donovan folded his arms. "I bet that's not true," he said sternly. "Everyone has a story. You ran away from home to live as a runaway! That's a story."

"Yeah, but you already know that one!" Luan protested.

"It doesn't have to be about you, then," Donovan said with a shrug. "Here, I'll start: Once upon a time, there used to be a huge city out to the East. It used to be full of people and known for being really beautiful. Then one day, the volcano nearby blew up, and it dumped a whole bunch of ashes on the city. Everyone there was killed, but if you dig deep enough, legend has it that the ruins of their city are still there."

Luan's mouth twitched at a smile. "That wasn't a very long story," he pointed out.

Donovan got mad. "Well, you try to do better, then!" He angrily jabbed at the campfire with his stolen sword.

Luan thought for a moment. "Well, uh, once upon a time there used to be a haunted mansion outside Richyard."

Donovan scoffed. "That's not a story, that's just a rumor."

Luan frowned. "It is too a story!" 

"Oh yeah, well why is it haunted?" Donovan shot back. "Did someone die there? How did they die? It's not a story unless someone does something in it."

"I dunno!" Luan said defensively. "It was just something my mom told me. That's all."

The campfire crackled, filling the silence between them.

"I guess I never had a mom to tell me stories," Donovan said curiously, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him before.

"My mom would read us lots of stories," Luan said. "Me and my six brothers, every night, even though Cearney always said he was too old. It was… nice…"

He stared distantly at the campfire.

"Well, what was your favorite story she told you?" Donovan asked.

Luan thought for a long moment, his thin, boyish face wracked with concentration.

"Well, have you ever heard the tale of the fox and the grapes?"

**\---**

The two exchanged stories well into the night until they both passed out from exhaustion above the campfire's dying coals. 

Then after a humble breakfast of crusty bread and hard cheese, they continued on their journey the next morning.

Even as the wind bit at their faces, as the road beat against their blisters, as the hours wore away at their stamina, they continued in good spirits. The Village would be their ticket to prosperity and riches. They just knew it. Childish and naive as that dream may have been, it burned brilliantly within them and warmed their spirits against the chill of adversity that surrounded them.

And as the miles blurred into each other, that dream carried them directly to the Village's doorstep.

The humble farming cottages were really nothing special to look at. They scattered the rolling hills like flecks of paint, each surrounded by an ancestral plot of land. They formed a small farming community, and yet the two boys looked upon them like they had found heaps of treasure.

They grinned and moved to claim their prize.

"Halt!" a fresh-faced, armor-clad guard shouted. He was barely older than the boys themselves.

"What do you want?" Donovan scoffed.

"There are no weapons allowed past into the village," the guard said stiffly. "You'll have to turn back!"

"What?! Since when?" Donovan yelled back. 

"Since always!" the guard replied. He reached for his own weapon, sensing a conflict.

Donovan's eyes went wide. He had the choice to abandon his weapon, but it was the most expensive item he owned, and he didn't know if/when he'd be able to replace it. He eyed the guard warily, measuring whether he could handle this opponent in a fight.

Luan seemed on edge, though. "Maybe we should head back," he said uncertainly.

Donovan shot a death glare at the guard and trudged away.

**\---**

"And you didn't think to mention it?!"

"I'm sorry!" Luan said back. "I didn't think about it. I don't carry weapons, and I've never had that problem here."

The two had staked out their campsite well outside the town boundaries. The sun had dipped well below the horizon, leaving their campfire as their only light source.

"Well, that's going to put a stop to this plan," Donovan said in frustration. "We came all this way, and we can't leave empty-handed."

Luan thought for a moment, his thin face gazing into the flickering fire. His hair had gotten even more matted than usual from their travels.

"What we need is a place to store weapons outside the Village," Luan finally said, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "We can steal what we need without them."

Donovan frowned slightly. "I… now that I have this sword, I don't want to give it up," he admitted.

Luan shook his head. "You don't have to give it up. Just hide it somewhere."

"Like where?" Donovan shot back.

This conversation cut off abruptly when they heard snapping twigs in the distance.

"Hail and well met, travelers!" a voice called out in the distance. "May I join you at your fire?"

Donovan and Luan stared back blankly, then exchanged a quick glance. Neither of them really wanted visitors, but what could they do to stop them?

The approaching figure took their silence as permission and sat down. The figure wore dark, aged armor that had seen its share of road grime. 

"You two seem rather young to be traveling the road alone," the figure said with surprise.

"And you seem rather nosy for a knight," Donovan said bitterly.

The figure laughed. "Oh, I'm not a knight. Perhaps one day, if all goes well."

Luan folded his arms suspiciously. 

"A knight helps all in need," the figure continued. "And as an aspiring knight, it would be woeful of me to ignore the plight of two lost youngsters."

"We're not lost," Luan replied.

"And we're not that young," Donovan added. "We're almost adults."

The figure shrugged and turned to look at Donovan's weapon.

"You fight, I take it?" he carried on conversationally.

"Only when necessary," Donovan said with an edge to his voice.

The figure laughed.

"No need to threaten me. I mean no harm. But if you have any true skills in the blade, perhaps you should enter the tournament coming up. It's a chance to earn the notice of the king himself, and of course, there's prize money…"

Donovan's ears perked up at that.

The figure stood up. "I think I've taken enough of your time. But think about it."

"Wait," Donovan said suddenly. "Before you go… fight me. In a sparring match."

The figure looked back curiously. 

"I have had little training with the blade," Donovan admitted. "But I want to get better. Please."

The figure chuckled. "I'm weary from the road, so it won't be much of a fight, but… Alright."

Donovan's eyebrows raised. He hadn't actually expected the figure to accept.

Luan's eyes brightened and he stepped back, eyes glued to the scene as he memorized every detail.

Donovan took a deep breath and tightened his face covering. He held the hilt of the sword the way Luan had suggested, and stared into the eyes of his opponent.

The figure wasn't very tall, even at full height. Even counting the horns on his helmet, he wasn't quite as tall as Donovan. But there was a determination to his stance that made Donovan wary.

Then the figure pulled out his blade, which turned out to be a… shovel?

Donovan raised an eyebrow, but then the figure lunged towards him and the fight was on.

The figure was a blur of black armor in the firelight, faster than Donovan expected. He parried the blows clumsily with his own sword, but couldn't find an opening to strike back.

"Not bad," the figure said wryly as he continued to match blows. Then, faster than Donovan could see, the figure flipped his shovel around Donovan's blade and jabbed bluntly into his chest. Donovan tripped backwards and fell to the ground.

The figure considered a moment.

"You are young and untrained, but you have potential," he said approvingly. "You lack the lifetime of training that fate has given some of your opponents at the tournament. But it would be a good learning experience for you. Who knows-- one day, you could even become a proper knight."

"I don't want to be a knight," Donovan scoffed. "Who wants to spend their days doing what some simpering king tells them to?"

The figure laughed at this. "Perhaps one day you'll change your mind on that," he said. 

Then he turned and walked away into the night.

Luan looked awestruck. "A real knight in training! Donovan, you just fought a--"

"I know," Donovan said dismissively. "And I got beaten soundly for it."

"That thing where he twisted his blade around yours--"

"Look, can we please not revisit it? It was shameful enough losing once," Donovan snapped.

"There's no shame in losing to an opponent like that," Luan replied. "He's had years of training. And you matched blows with him!"

"He was probably going easy on me up until the end…" Donovan muttered. "How did he do that, anyway?"

Luan's eyes brightened. "I can show you! He twisted his blade around like this…"

They spent the next few hours in the firelight practicing the fencing technique they'd seen the figure demonstrate for them. Eventually Donovan's embarrassment at his defeat was forgotten entirely.

**\---**

The next morning, the two woke to empty stomachs as they finished the last of their rations.

"I'll go into the Village today," Donovan volunteered. "You see if you can find a safe place to stow the sword. We can meet back here at sundown."

Donovan didn't want to say it, but he was worried Luan would make too much noise if he came along, anyway. If he could do the actual stealing, he could keep Luan out of harm's way. It was better like this.

Luan looked a little downcast, but he nodded. "I won't let you down," he said resolutely.

Donovan smiled a bit, a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that was barely visible through his face covering. "I'll be back with food. Stay safe."

"Hey, you don't have to worry about me! I'm the one with a sword!" Luan laughed.

"Yeah, that you barely know how to use!"

"Hey, I know more than you!"


	3. The First Real Job

As far as Donovan was concerned, the Village was filled with mansions. Even the humblest abode was the size of the largest dwelling back in the Lich Yard, and kept in much better shape. How did these people afford such wealthy residences?

The streets were filled with people walking back and forth, entering and exiting the Juice Bar in the center of town, and generally going about their lives. They hardly spared a glance at Donovan, thankfully. It was a welcome change of pace from his reputation back in the Lich Yard.

As he wandered the streets, he couldn't help but notice the laxness with which the people here treated their belongings. Their wealth and assumed safety had lulled them into a false sense of security. That would make them easy targets if Donovan was careful.

After a few hours of getting the lay of the town, he pilfered two tickets from a goat-headed man who seemed to have too many of them to spare. He traded them with the gastronomer in the middle of town, and there was dinner for him and Luan.

That left the issue of what to do for money, though. He found himself in the rich part of the Village, strolling between huge plantation houses on sprawling tracts of land. 

Any of these houses would have wealth enough to feed him and Luan for a year. But their owners also had the clout to lock him up in a dirty cell for years to come. He couldn't afford to be sloppy about this.

The afternoon sun did a bit to offset the bite of the wind chill, but Donovan clutched his cloak closer to himself anyway. He didn't have an abundance of time left, but if he could find a suitable target, he could strategize with Luan. Despite Luan's naivete, he had a knack for coming up with fresh ideas, and Donovan could use his input on this.

Eventually he settled on a white marble house with ornate columns decorating the front. Donovan clambered into some nearby bushes and watched quietly as a peacock-headed man walked out of the house. Donovan didn't know clothing could come in such rich colors. 

The peacock man seemed to smile warmly at a nearby human man who stood beside a stagecoach. Was he the driver? The peacock man handed him a slip of paper, and the driver drove off. How luxurious to not only have the money for groceries, but enough excess to pay someone else to fetch them for you.

This house would do just fine as a target, Donovan decided.

**\---**

"Wow, these dumplings are amazing!" Luan gushed with his mouth full. "The best thing I've had in months!"

Donovan smiled slightly under his face covering. He lifted it slightly to grant passage to more dumplings.

"Man, I wish we could live here and eat like this forever," Luan said dreamily.

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "We could, you know," he said curiously. "I've got nothing tying me down to the Lich Yard."

Luan froze mid bite. "...I can't," he finally managed. "I can't let them find me here. It's not safe."

Donovan frowned slightly. "What, is this about that evil uncle of yours?"

Luan's eyes darted back and forth. He must really be on edge, Donovan realized.

"There are… bad people here," Luan said quietly. "People who want me to do exactly what they say, no matter what. Other people who want to hurt me, no matter what I do. It's … not good," he finished clumsily.

"Are they the people who took over your family's house?" Donovan guessed.

Luan nodded somberly. 

Donovan thought a moment. "You know, I scouted a house earlier today. A white marble house belonging to a peacock man--"

"The Pemberleys?" Luan said suddenly, his eyes wide. "Oh we can't go there, he'll kill us. I got in BIG trouble for sneaking apples from his apple tree when I was a kid."

Donovan stared dumbfounded at him. "You know that neighborhood?"

"Well yeah, I grew up--" Luan started before clamming up. "I mean, it wasn't that far from where I… uh…"

"So hold on," Donovan started. "When you say your parents had money, you don't just mean rich, you mean RICH rich…"

Luan gave a guilty smile. "Yeah, uh, maybe a bit."

Donovan frowned in thought. "Ok, then I have a better idea. Instead of stealing from mister whatsit, let's go to your old house."

Luan's eyes widened. "Oh no no no, that's a bad idea…"

Donovan shook his head. "No, think about it. You know the property better than anyone, probably. You know all the secret entrances and hiding spots and everything. 

Luan fidgeted. "I mean, I guess… But if I get caught, they'll kill me."

Donovan raised an eyebrow. "If we get caught anytime, that's it. That's just life for us. If we can get an edge over our victims, I say we take it."

Luan thought for a moment, the gears in his head turning as he considered the best approach.

"We're gonna need a rope," he said as he counted off on his fingers, "and a crowbar, and a lamp. Great Aunt leaves to visit Great Grandmother every Saturday, so the house will be empty for three hours in the evening. We can climb in through my old window…"

Donovan nodded along, listening intently. This sounded like it could work.

**\---**

The necessary supplies were easily procured from a careless farmer, and when Saturday came, they were ready.

The two boys crouched behind some secluded hedges on the roadway. When they heard the clopping of horse hooves disappear into the distance, they made their move.

The marble manor was the largest building Donovan had ever seen. It was easily ten times the size of any of the Lich Yard buildings, practically a castle in its own right. It had two huge floors with circular tower rooms in the corners and a smaller building off to the side attached by a narrow hallway.

"That's the staff housing," Luan said, noticing Donovan's gaze. "We'll need to keep our distance from them, but they aren't allowed in the main house except to perform their duties."

The staff housing split off the East face of the house, so Luan and Donovan crept along the wall in the Westward direction.

"That's my room up there," Luan whispered, nodding at the corner tower. "We can lasso the rope around the balcony railing and climb up."

Donovan stared up at the balcony railing some 20 feet up. "We'd need a grappling hook for that," he said flatly.

Luan frowned in concern. "You don't think we can throw the rope up?"

Donovan frowned slightly, judging the distance before lobbing one end of the rope towards the railing. It clapped against the surface of the balcony and plopped pathetically to the ground.

"Huh," Luan said, sounding perplexed. "What should we do, then?"

Donovan stared at the wall of the manor. While the flat walls of the manor were made from sheets of marble, the towers on the corners were hewn from rough stone. The elements had worn away some of the mortar between the bricks, leaving narrow grooves in the tower walls. Donovan ran his finger through a groove at eye level.

"Donovan?" Luan said confusedly.

Donovan grabbed the rope and leaped towards the wall. The toe of his worn boots caught in the grooved wall, allowing him to rebound towards the balcony. He grabbed the edge, dangling awkwardly for a moment before he scrambled up.

"Whoa!" Luan exclaimed before he realized his own volume. "I mean, whoa," he whispered.

Donovan smiled a bit under his face covering. He tied the rope to the railing and tossed it down for Luan.

"Make sure to use the grooves in the wall," he advised. "It'll be easier than trying to climb the rope with sheer arm strength."

Luan nodded as he gracefully climbed the tower wall, hands adeptly switching from position to position, feet searching for purchase with every step.

It didn't take long for him to reach the balcony, although he did seem out of breath after it. Donovan wondered if that was from the exertion or from nerves.

"Man, it's weird to be back," Luan said with a shallow laugh. "Nothing ever changes here."

"Perfect, then you'll know where all the good stuff is," Donovan said wryly. "Now come on!"

After they fetched their rope, Luan pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the balcony door. The two entered.

The balcony window let some light into the bedroom, but there were enough dark corners in the room for Donovan to light the lamp.

"You used to LIVE here??" Donovan said in awe as he shone the lantern about the room. There was a four poster bed, a mahogany armoire, and expensive looking art on the walls. Was that a jewel-encrusted chamber pot?? The waste products of the aristocratic had more expensive living conditions than Donovan did!

"Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" Luan said strangely.

"Then you're a madman for choosing to live on the streets," Donovan said offhandedly as he examined a chest full of expensive clothing. "If I knew I could come back to this any time, I wouldn't be out there."

Luan didn't respond.

"How long would it take us to get all of this out of the house, you think?" Donovan pondered.

Luan's eyes went wide. "No, they can't know we were here. We have to be subtle about this."

"Why should we?" Donovan countered. "Who knows when we'll have an opportunity like this again?"

Luan stammered and took a deep breath.

"If we're careful about this, then we can take small items that won't be missed, and we can come back as many times as we want," Luan explained impatiently. "But if they know they were robbed, they'll hire guards, and we'll never get in again."

"Fine," Donovan snapped. "What do you want to take, then?"

Luan peered carefully around the corner and gestured for Donovan to follow, his lamplight glowing dimly in the dark halls.

"We're going to the cellar," he said with a mischievous grin.

**\---**

The dusty cellar staircase let out a groan as Luan lowered it with the crowbar.

"Do you know what the Seatlan estates are known for?" he asked Donovan.

"No, why would I?" Donovan replied.

"Think about it: All you've seen since you entered the village has been farmland," Luan said with a grin. "This is a farming region. And when you grow food, you grow fruit, and when you grow fruit, you make wine."

Then he gestured for Donovan to enter the cellar. Donovan held his lamp out, and what he saw was a field of wine shelves as far as the lamp illuminated.

"Most of it gets sold, of course, but the best of the best stays in the family," Luan said proudly. "Even just one of these bottles would get a high price on the black market, and Great Aunt never comes down here, so it'll take her a long time to notice it's gone missing."

Donovan nodded, his eyes crinkling in a grin.

"This is perfect," he said excitedly. "What do you recommend, somalier Luan?"

Luan barked out a laugh. "I'm no somalier," he said as incredulously as though Donovan had called him the King of Pridemoor. "But I know my dad always said the best vintage waaaaas…"

Here he traced his fingers along a row of dusty wine bottles, their labels faintly visible in the lamplight's glow.

"This one," Luan finally said with a grin. His eyes glinted madly as he pulled it from its shelf. "The crown jewel of the Seatlan estates."

Donovan suddenly felt uneasy. "So if we try to sell it, it'll be obvious it's stolen?"

Luan chuckled. "Oh, absolutely, but it's so famous that people won't care. Is… is that a problem?" he asked suddenly, noting Donovan's dour expression.

"No, it's not," he decided. "I think I know someone who would buy it anyhow."

**\---**

"So who is this Chester guy, anyway?" Luan asked curiously as he sipped his juice.

After a successful escape from the scene of the crime, the two waited at the bar of the Juice Bar in the Village. Apart from the Juice Maid, who seemed to notice their apparent ages and gave them dirty looks when they sat down, nobody had paid them any mind. Donovan had their prize wrapped securely in a pack at his back, barely visible under his cloak.

"I've never met him, but Chester has a reputation," Donovan answered, looking around warily. "I got to know the merchants in Richyard in my… uh… line of work. They would help me out with most anything, but rumor has it that if you have something REALLY dicey, the only one who'd help was Chester. Apparently he traffics in everything, even materials that others find… unsavory."

Luan nodded. "So he'd be perfect to help us and our situation."

"That's the hope," Donovan said with a sigh. "He's also got a reputation for being a tough-as-nails negotiator."

Luan gulped nervously. "I don't know how much help I'll be, then. You got this on your own?"

"I sure hope so. Feel free to watch, though. Then you'll be ready for next time."

Luan nodded in agreement.

Not long later, a man in cyan pants with ear-length dreadlocks swaggered in. He chatted with some of the locals before settling into a seat at the end of the tavern.

"That's him," Donovan said as he stood up.

Chester nodded as Donovan approached.

"Hey there, sport," he said charmingly. "Are you looking to buy something?"

Donovan looked around warily. "No, I actually had something to sell."

Chester's eyebrows raised for a moment. "To sell, huh? Where'd you get something like that?" he asked with faux surprise.

Donovan's face burned. Chester was mocking him.

"That doesn't matter," he said grumpily. "But it'll be worth your while."

"Oh, will it now?" Chester laughed sharply like he doubted that would be the case. "Sure, let's see what you got."

Donovan unwrapped the pack to reveal the stolen wine. Chester's eyebrows stayed raised this time.

"Alright, you got my attention," he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "What do you want for it?"

Donovan shook his head. "What price are you willing to pay?" 

Chester stared oddly at Donovan for a moment. "5,000 gold," he said, and Donovan's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. That was a mind-boggling amount of money for someone accustomed to buying old bread with spare coppers.

But before he could accept, Luan walked up.

"5,000? That's offensive, and you know it," he said as he stared down Chester. "Wine of that caliber is easily worth five times the price, maybe ten to the right buyer."

Chester smiled dangerously and turned to face Luan.

"And what do you know about that, pal?" he asked coolly.

"Enough," Luan said shortly. "And you're going to give us a fair price or we'll take our business elsewhere."

Chester leaned back in his chair. "Nobody else will touch that stuff, given its origin. You're stuck with me."

Luan shook his head. "No, you're stuck with us because you know you might not see another bottle of this in your lifetime."

Chester sighed."Let's cut to the chase. You're not getting 25,000," he said bluntly. "It may be worth that, but if I can't find a buyer, it's dead weight to me, same as it is to you right now. Think of it as risk management. I'll give you 15,000."

Luan considered. "I'd go as low as 20,000."

"18,000," Chester countered, his eyes locked on Luan's. 

Luan held his gaze for a long moment. Chester stared back, his gaze unbending. They were gridlocked.

"Fine," Luan relented. "18,000 today because I'm desperate. But don't think you're getting that price again."

Chester smiled as he handed over a bulging bag of gold. "If you're saying there's more where that came from, then be sure to get in contact with me, alright?"

**\---**

Only when they were well outside the Village limits did Donovan let his facade drop.

"18,000 gold," he said in an awestruck voice. "That's not just a few piddly sapphires and emeralds. That's… life-changing."

Luan grinned. "I told you it'd be worth holding out for the cellar."

Donovan nodded slowly, still dazed by what had just happened.

"Here's your sword back, by the way," Luan said casually as he pulled Donovan's weapon from inside a tree.

Donovan nodded distantly as he took it. "What do we do now?"

Luan sat down, laying the bag of money between them. "We could do almost anything. Travel the world. Enjoy the finest foods, the finest locales…"

Donovan's head swam with the possibilities. 

"What do you want?" he asked Luan.

Luan thought for a moment. "I really thought you were going to double-cross me for the money by now."

Donovan went silent.

"The thought hadn't occurred to me," he said honestly. "You helped get that money. You knew how to get in and what was valuable, and made sure we got a fair price."

"Yeah, and you jumped in the window like a liquid samurai and found someone to buy it!" Luan said with a grin. "It was a team effort."

Donovan thought for a moment. "I mean, I guess it'd be possible to pull my sword on you and take your share, but it wouldn't be fair to you. I don't want to."

Luan smiled warmly. "I kind of figured you'd say that."

The two were silent for a moment.

"Also, I think you're my friend," Donovan said awkwardly, staring at the fire. "Friends don't do that to each other."

Luan laughed lightly. "All my life, my parents told me the world outside the estate was dark and cold and lonely. But do you want to know the truth? I've been happier here on the streets with you than I was at home. You treat me with more kindness and respect than my own family!"

Donovan chuckled darkly. "That's pretty sad. I'm not that nice of a person."

"You are in the ways that count," Luan said with a shrug. "Besides, who needs family, anyway? We can be partners in crime and forget them. This is enough money to travel the land and go on as many adventures as we want."

Donovan nodded slowly. "I think I'd like that," he said, smiling under his scarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attempts at researching actual medieval household structures and architectural layouts are stymied by the anachronistic anomalies inherent to Shovel Knight lol. What country is Shovel Knight analogous to? What period? All of these are impossible to answer lol. So I've abandoned any pretext of historical accuracy and am instead writing these settings in a way that's conducive to the story, which I hope you'll forgive me for


	4. Her

With their newfound wealth, the boys journeyed to the Armor Outpost and upgraded their clothing and armor. Then they set off into the great unknown, ready to see what awaited them.

\---

Three years passed. The boys became young men at 18 and 19.

Luan hit a growth spurt that stretched him out like a taffy puller. Now instead of being short and skinny, he was tall and skinny like a beanpole, and there he would remain until the rest of his body caught up. He even started to grow a patchy beard, even though Donovan mocked him mercilessly for it. 

Donovan remained as mysterious as ever, but he grew a few inches over the years as well. And although it was hard to tell under his scarf, it was possible that his round, boyish features had sharpened into adulthood somewhat.

There were all kinds of unexplored caves and spans of wilderness teeming with jewels for those willing to traverse them. As their skills with the blade sharpened, so too did their boldness, and they found themselves venturing farther and farther into the Valley.

Although they had an unofficial home base in the catacombs of the Lich Yard, they visited the Village frequently. Of all the places they'd visited, none quite matched the camaraderie of the Juice Bar, and they returned often.

Here it was that they met Reina, and their lives took a dramatic turn.

**\---**

Donovan recognized the look in Luan's eyes the moment it appeared. 

He'd known Luan long enough to know the look he got in his eyes when he saw a pretty girl. Luan was usually too shy to do anything about it, but alcohol made him bolder, and sometimes he'd go over and say something foolish. Then he'd be rejected, and Donovan would console him that one did not need a romantic relationship with a woman to be happy. Eventually the pain of rejection would soften, and Luan would laugh that Donovan was right. Then Luan would swear off romancing women before repeating the entire cycle a different night.

Donovan couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cycle. He'd yet to see a woman who caught his own fancy in that way, and sometimes he wondered if, indeed, that day would ever come. But here Luan was, falling head over heels for pretty face after pretty face. Donovan decided that romance was overrated, and though he would support Luan in his foolish endeavors, he couldn't bring himself to understand or agree with them.

Luan's pattern had grown predictable. But with Reina it was different.

She was short, with long dark hair and a round face. She had wide, dark eyes and a smile that brightened a room. Her charisma surrounded her like candlelight, catching everyone in the room in its warm embrace.

Donovan was impervious to this charm, but Luan, heaven help him, was not. Donovan recognized that look in Luan's eye from the very first time he laid eyes on her, and knew that the lovestruck fool had been securely trapped.

Reina attracted a cloud of suitors, of course. She chatted idly with them, laughed at their jokes, and rejected their affections, one after another. She wasn't cruel in doing so, but she was honest about her feelings, and it was the truth that hurt their feelings more than anything else. Even so, over the months that followed, she left a trail of heartbroken suitors in her wake.

"Don't worry with that one," one such man warned Luan, gesturing towards Reina as she chatted lightly with the Juice Maid at the bar. "She'll chew you up and spit you out like the sea."

"Does she?" Donovan asked flatly. "Or does she simply reject men she isn't interested in?"

The man huffed and slinked away. "Just don't say I didn't warn you," he said sullenly.

Donovan rolled his eyes, but Luan seemed distraught.

"How could I succeed where so many others have failed?" he moaned quietly, sinking his head into his arms on the table. 

Donovan sighed. These conversations about Reina had gone on for months now. "Just go rip the bandage off. She'll either say yes or no. No sense drawing this nonsense out."

Luan gasped as though Donovan had suggested he cut his finger off with a knife. "I couldn't! Matters of the heart are so delicate," he muttered.

Donovan gave Luan a dirty look for a moment before turning to look at the woman in question… only to catch her gaze from across the room. Reina broke it off sharply and turned to say something to the Juice Maid. Suddenly they were talking back and forth excitedly.

Oh god help him.

Donovan took a swig of his beer. He did not have the wherewithal to deal with this nonsense sober.

"What is it?" Luan said curiously. "What happened?"

Donovan shook his head. He dared not utter the words in case he jinxed them into being.

"Oh god, she's coming over here!" Luan whispered frantically.

Sure enough, Reina walked over to their table and stood there.

"You know what?" she said lightheartedly. "Life is short, and I'm not the sort to let opportunities pass me by. Can I join you gentlemen for a drink?"

Luan's tongue tripped over itself as he tried to say "certainly" and "absolutely" at the same time.

Reina giggled warmly and sat next to Luan, but her eyes seemed to keep wandering over to Donovan, who pointedly stared at the wall as he drank his beer.

"So, are you two from around here?" she asked conversationally.

"Oh, we were just stopping by for a drink," Luan laughed. "We live in Richyard."

"Oh, that's the place they call the Lich Yard, right?" Reina said with raised eyebrows. "Tell me, is it as spooky as they say?"

"Only if you're scared of the poor," Donovan said flatly. 

Reina laughed. "A pity to live in a place said to be filled with the supernatural and not have a single haunted house, at least!"

Luan's face brightened with recognition. "There is a haunted house, supposedly. I heard stories about it as a child. But nobody's ever found it."

Reina stared at the ceiling as though deep in thought. "I do wonder what such a house might be like," she said. "I've never believed in ghosts and such. Surely there's a scientific explanation for such phenomena?"

"Scientific explanation? You sound like the alchemists," Donovan said lightly, but his words were a warning. The alchemists were not well liked and had to do their terrible research in secret to avoid detection and banishment.

Reina laughed. "I'm no alchemist, but I do respect their pursuit of truth, and I share their curiosity. You've never wondered if the haunted house actually exists?"

Donovan shook his head, but now Luan's curiosity had been piqued, too.

"Now that you mention it, there could be treasure, right? Maybe it would make a fun adventure," Luan reasoned. "Of course, it could be dangerous."

Reina smiled warmly at the two of them. "How dangerous could it be with two strong men with me?"

Donovan choked on his drink. "You're proposing we go to investigate this place?"

Reina nodded. "Why not? Just think of the story you could tell afterwards!"

Donovan found himself at a loss for words. Luan, on the other hand, did not.

"We'd be delighted!" he said gleefully. "But we'll need supplies for a journey of this kind. Have you traveled much?"

The rest of the conversation turned to planning this impromptu expedition. Donovan wondered when he had stepped into this strange and terrifying dream world.

"This is so exciting!" Reina said at the close of the conversation, and her eyes lit up like she meant it. "I will see you both outside the Village tomorrow morning!"

"We're looking forward to it!" Luan said warmly. Donovan blinked in confusion.

As Reina turned to walk away, Luan stared back at Donovan.

"It's a date! Kind of!" he said with excitement.

"It's not a date because I got wrangled into coming along," Donovan said with dismay.

Luan waved it off. "It's a chance to get to know her better. It's everything I could have hoped for."

Donovan looked at the door as Reina left. She shot Donovan an excited grin and dashed out. Donovan's eye twitched.

"I don't know if you should say that," Donovan said under his breath.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," Luan said warmly.

Donovan shook his head. "Nothing," he said dismissively. "I just… hope things go well for you."

**\---**

After a stay at the inn, and against his better judgment, Donovan found himself on the outskirts of town the next morning. A light snow settled over the ground, but the air was still. Donovan still wore his same ancient blue cloak, which did less and less against the cold as the years went on, but underneath he wore his new bronze-plated armor from the Armor Outpost over thick clothing, and that helped ward away the chill somewhat.

Luan wore a long red coat that flared out at his ankles. Had… had he combed his hair for the occasion? Donovan stared in shock. Luan's thick, wavy hair was still voluminous, but it lay neatly in a way Donovan had never seen before.

"What in god's green earth did you do to your hair," Donovan asked flatly.

Luan laughed. "It was about time I tamed this mess. Wouldn't want to make a bad impression on the lady," he said with a wink.

Donovan stared.

Luan started to say something else, but they were interrupted by horse hooves.

"Morning boys!" Reina called out from atop her horse. She was dressed in riding trousers and a thick coat and scarf to protect against the winter chill, but her cheeks were already chapped pink. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

"No, but let's get this over with," Donovan grumbled. 

Luan laughed. "Donovan's such a joker, isn't he?" 

Reina had brought two horses for them; Donovan selected one and climbed atop it.

Reina smiled. "Donovan, is it? I'm only now realizing I never caught your names."

Luan flinched in surprise. "My apologies, my lady! Luan Seatlan, at your service." He caught her hand and kissed it stiffly.

Reina snorted. "Oh, we don't need any of that. I'm not some noblewoman who needs to be pampered at every turn. The name's Reina Hedge." She reached out for a handshake, which Luan returned, and judging by his involuntary grunt, Reina had a firm grip.

"Hedge…" Donovan said slowly, thinking. "You couldn't be related to the hedgehog family on the outskirts of town, could you?"

Reina smirked. "What, you can't see the family resemblance? Did I forget to mention that I'm half hedgehog?"

Luan snorted as he climbed atop his own horse. No, Reina was as human as they came.

Reina smiled as she nudged her horse forward with her reins. Luan and Donovan followed to the side on their own horses. "No, I was adopted into the family when I was young," she explained. "The hedgehogs have a way of finding lost souls and taking them into their fold, and… well, I was a lost soul. But that was years ago. Now, they're my family in every way that matters."

Luan nodded knowingly. "I understand how that goes. Donovan took me under his wing a few years back. We've been inseparable ever since."

Donovan chuckled. "That's one way of telling it."

Reina raised her eyebrows. "How did the two of you meet?" she asked conversationally.

Donovan and Luan exchanged a look. When was the customary time in a relationship to tell a lady that one worked as a thief? Not the first outing, surely?

"I met him on a job," Donovan said stiffly. "He was making a fool of himself, and I stepped in before he hurt himself."

"Oh, work associates?" Reina nodded approvingly. "What kind of work might that be?"

Donovan stammered at a response and went silent.

"Adventurers!" Luan piped up. "We roam the land looking for goods to sell. We aren't half bad at it, either."

"Adventurers, you say?" Reina got a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "And does your sort of adventuring involve roaming people's houses?"

Donovan and Luan said nothing, but the mortified look on their faces must have told Reina everything she needed to know.

She laughed. "Don't worry, I'm no snitch. I've just seen you talking to Chester before, and everyone knows what HE'S about. Doesn't matter one way or another to me."

Luan exhaled a sigh of relief. "It really doesn't bother you?" he asked shyly.

"Sometimes in a crisis, people have to do hard things to survive," Reina replied. "I've been in a crisis like that before. Besides, the rich hoard too much money as it is. I have no problems with the poor reclaiming what's rightfully theirs."

Donovan laughed. "I like that philosophy."

Reina's eyes twinkled. "You would. Judging by that cloak, you're not one of the rich. So you'd have all the more reason to want to take them down, too."

Donovan shrugged. Luan smiled dreamily, and if Donovan were to guess, he was falling deeper and deeper into that terrible lovestruck sickness of his.

"So what do you like to do for fun, Reina?" Luan asked, changing the topic.

Reina laughed a little too loudly. "Well, uh, what do most ladies like to do? I embroider, I bake, uhh…."

Donovan chuckled. "That's an obvious lie."

Reina glared at him. "Well, what do you know about me and my life?"

Donovan gave her a curious look from under his face covering. "Alright, I apologize. By all means, tell us more about those interests of yours," he said wryly.

Reina huffed, her cheeks turning red as she failed to think of anything else to say.

Luan laughed easily. "C'mon, whatever it is can't be that bad. We already admitted to being thieves, didn't we?"

"Alright, but you can't tell anyone," Reina said as she rolled her eyes. "I'm an alchemist in training."

Luan raised his eyebrows. "How did you end up doing that?"

Reina smiled. "Well, I can't tell you who, but somebody I know introduced me to someone skilled, and I've been learning ever since. It's a lot of complicated math and research, and I'm just a minion right now, but I have hopes of doing proper field research one day."

"You mean like what we're doing today," Donovan said with amusement.

Reina shook her head. "No, I mean with proper research equipment! Today is purely to satisfy my own curiosity. And, I hope, yours."

The path ahead of them narrowed into a rickety bridge, and Reina pulled forward from the group so everyone could get through. The conversation lulled somewhat after that.

**\---**

"So what is it we're looking for, anyway?" Donovan asked some miles later. The fresh green grass of the Village had long since faded into the dull brown fields of the Lich Yard, so they were at least making progress.

The group had just passed the city limits of the Lich Yard and struck out to the South-East. Everything from here on out was fresh, unexplored territory. Nobody with any sense ventured south of Richyard.

"Ectoplasm?" Reina guessed. "That's the hallmark of the ghostly undead, apparently."

Luan laughed. "There's nothing supernatural about ectoplasm here. It's just a way of life," he said lightly, gesturing to a puddle of the stuff on the side of their traveled path.

"Fascinating," Reina said intently as she scribbled in a notebook.

"Did you not plan for how to locate this structure?" Donovan asked in dismay.

Reina huffed. "It's not that I didn't plan for it! But it's a house, for goodness' sake. It can't be that hard to find. We aren't exactly combing the countryside for a noblewoman's lost earring."

Luan shrugged atop his horse. "They say adventurers have tried and failed to locate the place before. How will we be successful where they were not?"

"By our pluck and our refusal to give up!" Reina said with a laugh. 

"Until we die here and join the ranks of the undead," Donovan muttered.

Reina looked at him oddly. "You certainly are a ray of sunshine, aren't you, Donovan?" she teased.

Donovan grunted.

"Come to think of it, perhaps the reason it hasn't been found is because nobody ventures this direction," Luan pointed out. "The further south we go, the more hazards we'll encounter-- tadvolts, ectoplasm, ectoplasmic water… Most sensible people live in the village center where those risks are mitigated."

"Well, we wouldn't be where we are today if we didn't take risks, right?" Donovan said with a sigh.

Luan's horse whinnied uncomfortably; it had stepped in a puddle of ectoplasm that encroached on the path.

"Easy, easy," he soothed as he directed the horse to a patch of uncorrupted grass. The horse eagerly kicked at the grass, trying to remove the foreign substance.

"Horses don't like ectoplasm," Luan explained with a chuckle. "But then again, I've never known a living being that did. Something about it bothers most."

Luan dismounted, soothed the creature, and gently smeared the substance away from its hoof. Donovan thought Luan was going to get kicked in the head for his troubles, but miraculously he pulled through.

"Bit of an animal lover, are you?" Reina asked curiously as she watched the tenderness of the gesture.

Luan shrugged. "There's something… genuine about animals," he admitted almost guiltily. "They're honest in a way most people aren't. I've always respected that."

Reina nodded. "I can understand that. I've always appreciated their flavor, myself."

Luan laughed at that.

While that conversation happened, Donovan dismounted his own horse and scaled a nearby tree, leaping as gracefully between the branches as one might walk up a staircase. From that vantage point, he spotted a structure in the distance…

"I think I've found our destination," he called down to the group.

\---

It didn't take long to ride out to the front door of the spooky mansion.

"Well, how about that," Luan said with amusement as they stared at the front door. "I suppose I had always chalked the place up to a fairy tale, and yet here it is."

Reina grinned widely as she scribbled in her notebook. "A real life haunted house! I'm so excited."

Donovan grunted. "Do not get too comfortable with the undead. They are more dangerous than you seem to give them credit for."

Luan nudged him lightly in the arm. "Lighten up, Donovan! The undead aren't real anyhow."

"Of course they are," Donovan said tersely. "Whatever gave you the idea they aren't?"

Luan smiled knowingly. "I know your old games, Donovan. Don't think you're going to fool me this time!"

Donovan gave a sharp sigh that sounded almost like a hiss. "I'm not fooling around!"

Reina raised her eyebrows as she tied up the horses. "And have you actually seen these creatures, Donovan?"

"I grew up in the catacombs under the Lich Yard. It would be hard not to see them," Donovan said with annoyance.

Here Luan shook his head. "I've slept in those same crypts without seeing a hint of them."

"That's because we spent most of our time adventuring abroad!" Donovan retorted.

Reina stepped between them. "Alright, enough bickering, you two. I propose a wager. Donovan, if we see a ghost or other supernatural phenomenon today in this house, I'll buy you a drink of your choice at the Juice Bar."

"And if we don't?" Luan chided.

Reina's lips drew up into a mischievous grin. "Then we conclude that ghosts do not exist, and you, Donovan, have to go on a date with me."

Donovan's face blanched, and he was reduced to a dumbfounded silence for several moments. Luan exhaled once in what sounded like a disbelieving laugh.

"I… No, because there might not be ghosts in this house," Donovan snapped. "We might not find any turtles inside either, but that doesn't mean turtles are a myth!"

Reina snickered. "You seem awfully defensive. Is the prospect of an evening with me truly so daunting?"

Donovan found himself at a loss for words. He struggled to find them and failed miserably.

Luan laughed amiably. "Perhaps a change in scope, Reina? If we see no ghosts, then Donovan buys us each a drink. And if we do, then we each buy him a drink. Sound fair?"

Donovan stared moodily at the house, pointedly avoiding Luan's gaze. "I accept."

Reina nodded. "Then the wager is on! Unfortunately, it appears the front door is locked, so we'll need another way inside."

"If you tie up the horses, Donovan and I can find a way in," Luan suggested as the two walked to the side of the house. Reina nodded and set to her work.

Once they were out of Reina's earshot, Luan turned panickedly to Donovan. 

"Did you know?" he whispered agitatedly.

"Of course not," Donovan whispered back. "Well, I think I caught her glancing my way, but I didn't expect… that."

Luan buried his head in his hands.

"And do you feel the same towards her?" Luan sighed.

"Hardly," Donovan whispered back scornfully. "You should have guessed as much."

"Still, perhaps this was a fool's errand," Luan said resignedly. "Let us finish what we started, I suppose."

They easily located a missing segment of wall on the first floor of the house. It would serve as a suitable entrance and exit.

And when they returned to Reina, she had put blankets on the horses to protect them from the wind chill and tied them up to a stake in the ground.

"We have a few hours before we should come back to check on the horses," she told Luan and Donovan. "I chose these three specifically because they tie well, and there's a creek nearby, so they have water. Even so, let's not dally too long."

"Fine by me," Donovan said brusquely. "The less time spent in the presence of the undead, the better." He drew his sword and carried it at the ready as though he could be ambushed at any time.

Luan looked oddly at Donovan. "I've never seen you so worried about an outing, Donovan. Are you sure you're alright?"

Donovan huffed and walked inside.

\---

The missing wall opened into what must have once been a ballroom. Round chandeliers dotted the room and gave a strange blue glow to the eerie manor. 

The group clambered into the room.

"Well, no ghosts so far!" Reina said proudly. "Although I am dying to know what has kept these chandeliers alight all this time…"

"The energy of the undead," Donovan muttered under his breath. Reina heard this and laughed.

"It seems safe enough here," Luan said with a shrug as he sheathed his own cutlass. Donovan snorted derisively and kept his own blade at the ready.

"Who knows, perhaps you two delinquents will find some treasure here!" Reina said confidently. "It seems all we're likely to see here."

Donovan located a door at the end of the hall, quietly crept towards it, and carefully peered through before giving the all clear.

Luan laughed. "You act like we're pilfering a nobleman's house after dark. There's nobody here to see or--"

Donovan cut him off with a glare. Luan coughed suddenly, swallowing his words.

"Touchy," Reina remarked as she walked towards the door.

On the other side, the group found a pit of spikes built into the ground. The way forward was a platform some 20 feet across the room.

"Charming," Reina said with a raised eyebrow.

"We don't have to go any farther," Luan reassured her. "I or Donovan can venture ahead, and the other can remain behind to protect you from the supernatural."

"Nonsense!" Reina said with a barking laugh. "You didn't think I'd come on a trip like this unprepared, did you?" Then she pulled a black powder bomb from her coat and bomb-jumped into the air. With a twist and a flourish, she landed triumphantly atop the platform on the other side.

Luan whistled with surprise. "You are full of surprises, Reina!" He and Donovan took turns swinging on a chandelier above and crossed the room.

"It's too quiet," Donovan said uncomfortably, his eyes darting across the room.

The next step forward involved ascending a platform some 30 feet up. Who could live in a house such as this?? Donovan leaped up it with the help of the chandelier and peered into the next room.

"There appears to be nothing there," he said resignedly. "We can either ascend this platform and exit that way or return the way we came. What would you prefer?"

Reina shrugged. "Well, I came here to explore. No sense leaving the job unfinished!" She bomb-jumped up and was followed soon after by Luan.

They walked through the hallway ahead, with Donovan cautiously leading the way. The old wood of the house seemed about to fall apart any minute, judging by the smell of decay from the hallway. And yet it still stood, and here they stood as well.

The air was still, broken only by their passing footsteps and a passing draft of wind. They had almost reached the end of the hall when Donovan's voice broke the silence:

"RUN. RETREAT NOW."

Reina and Luan scarcely had time to ask what was happening when Donovan pushed back through them, sprinting at a breakneck pace. Luan blinked a moment before his reflexes kicked in, and he grabbed Reina's wrist and ran back the way they came. 

"I beg your pardon!" Reina shouted.

Luan shook his head. "If Donovan said it's bad, it's bad. Just run."

And run they did, back down the hall they came from, but Reina couldn't resist a look in the direction they'd just come from.

A neon blue, blob-like creature approached from the end of the hall. It dripped sickening ectoplasm and unhinged its enormous maw, letting out a guttural laugh.

Reina screamed.

"No time to panic," Luan said quickly. "We need to get down."

Donovan swung across the chandeliers to the end of the room before turning around to ensure his companions crossed safely.

"Reina, can you bomb jump across?" Luan shouted over the phantasm's laughter. 

Reina startled back into her senses. "I think so," she said shakily. 

Luan jumped onto the nearest chandelier and swung towards the mansion exit. "Well, it's time to find out!"

Reina glanced back at the blue creature, which was almost upon her. She took a deep breath and leapt across the room.

As she did, the creature let out a bloodcurdling screech. It jarred Reina from her concentration, and she fumbled her jump, falling pathetically through the air towards the spikes below.

"Reina!" Luan shouted. 

She regained her focus and quickly pulled out a bomb, which propelled her upward and forward into the room. But Donovan could see from his vantage point that she lacked the momentum to clear it…

Luan steadied himself and caught her by the waist, pulling her to safety.

And there in that room, in the face of mortal peril, time seemed to slow down for a moment.

Donovan saw the desperation and relief cross Luan's eyes as he held Reina. And he saw the shock on Reina's face disappear into something a bit more tender. Their eyes met and lingered. 

The moment broke as the creature screamed again, and Luan quickly scrambled to get Reina to solid land.

"Sorry about that," he said bashfully. "You just… I…"

Reina fumbled her words for a moment and laughed instead.

By now the creature had reached the platform. It's screaming splattered the three of them with specks of ectoplasm. Donovan hissed in annoyance.

"Back to the ballroom!" he shouted with the authority of a military officer as he slashed at the creature with his sword. Luan and Reina obeyed.

The creature faded from view for a moment as though Donovan's blade had disrupted its form, but it was back before long. Donovan retreated into the ballroom while keeping his eyes locked on the thing.

"I'm sorry for not trusting you earlier," Luan called out as Donovan entered.

"You were right, I was wrong, please kill that thing!" Reina added.

Donovan sneered. "One does not kill the undead. One lays them to rest. I hope we can do that here."

Then the creature reached the room.

"You're going down, you big creep!" Reina shouted as she lobbed a few black powder bombs in its direction. But the creature paid them no mind.

Donovan and Luan nodded to each other and flanked the creature, each delivering a flurry of blows. The creature moved forward unperturbed.

"It's invulnerable…" Reina realized. "We need a way to harm this creature!"

Donovan glanced at Luan and nodded before advancing on the creature with another flurry of blows. The creature floated towards Donovan, seemingly content to ignore Luan and Reina for the time being.

"Think!" Reina said under her breath as she racked her brain. "What do ghosts hate? Holy water? Exorcisms?"

"Fresh out of both," Luan said with a shrug. 

The phantasm floated oddly through the room as though dodging some unseen enemy. What did it fear?

Reina watched this strange display for a moment before anticipating its movement. She lobbed a black powder bomb at it, which ricocheted off the chandelier, sending it swinging.

The phantasm glowed red and reared back as though in pain.

"The chandeliers!" Reina shouted. 

Donovan's brow furrowed in confusion. What could she mean by that?

Luan picked up her meaning faster, though. He slashed at a nearby chandelier with his cutlass, and beams of energy burst from it. The phantasm recoiled.

Donovan watched this happen, and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in a smile. The tide was turning.

The phantasm hadn't given up entirely, though. Now it split into three smaller apparitions, and each approached a human combatant.

Donovan jumped from the wall of the mansion to the upper level. As the phantasm approached, he slashed at the chandeliers on the landing, delivering a series of blasts. The phantasm disappeared.

Luan lunged easily at a chandelier near the room entrance with his cutlass, and his phantasm disappeared as well.

Now only Reina's remained-- the real one, if Donovan were to guess. Reina tossed several bombs, and each sent beams flying from the chandeliers they hit. The phantasm was losing steam.

Reina then located a switch on the wall and pulled it. The chandeliers started swinging wildly about the room, pulled by an elaborate mechanism of some kind.

"Yes!" Luan grinned. He grabbed a chandelier and ascended to the landing.

"Here it comes!" Donovan shouted.

The phantasm threw caution to the wind, floating about the room without any regard for the chandeliers around it. But between rotating chandeliers and the three combatants strategically setting them off about the room, its will was eventually whittled away.

Finally, with a last burst of energy, the creature dissipated and burst into a cloud of dust, its spectral remnants scattering into the distance. 

The room went silent.

"We did it," Reina realized. "We actually did it!"

Donovan breathed a sigh of relief. Luan clapped him on the shoulder, grinning ear from ear.

Reina laughed. "Is this how it always goes with you two? Exploring about, fighting monsters? It seems so glamorous."

"The glamorous part is when we find the food for dinner," Donovan said darkly. 

Luan chuckled. "It's not so bad. You could join us if you like. Your quick thinking really helped us out with that thing, and it'd be handy to have you around."

Donovan blinked in confusion. What was Luan doing?

Reina snorted. "I, uh, appreciate the offer, but I think that's quite enough adventure for me! I'll stick to my libraries and research from now on."

"Suit yourself!" Luan said lightly. "More treasure for us, then!"

"But I will accompany you back to the Juice Bar," Reina continued. "If memory serves, I still owe Donovan a drink!"

But even as she said Donovan's name, her eyes were locked onto Luan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could write a whole essay about the treatment of animals in Shovel Knight. On the one hand, we know several sentient animal-like characters, like Hengineer and Goatician. On the other hand, non-sentient animals like the fish boss in Treasure Knight's level seem to exist, and multiple characters eat meat onscreen. On the other hand, enemies like slimes can be sentient, although the game doesn't hesitate to slaughter them elsewhere. All this is to say I don't know what role working animals like draft horses play in the world, nor what characters like Percy would think of them, so for simplicity I've written them in and will never address it!
> 
> Also it's probably obvious how Reina's going to be important later, but in case it's not, I won't spoil it lol


	5. The New State of Things

They did ride back to the Juice Bar, and Luan and Reina did buy drinks for Donovan as they promised. In fact, the trio found themselves at the bar quite often after that-- almost every time Luan's adventuring schedule permitted and he successfully persuaded Donovan, who would put up a fight for show and give in every time.

"No, I'm serious!" Reina said raucously one evening several weeks later. They were all a few drinks deep by this point, and her face was red from the alcohol under her winter scarf. "The new apprentice has the most annoying laugh!"

"How bad is it?" Luan said, grinning broadly.

"It's like, nasally and high-pitched." Here Reina gave her best drunk approximation. Luan and Donovan doubled over laughing.

"I feel bad!" Reina laughed. "He must be, I don't know, ten years old? But it's so annoying!"

"All ten year old boys are annoying," Luan said authoritatively. "I know because I was."

"Implying that you aren't now?" Reina teased. Luan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

Reina and Luan continued with some back-and-forth while Donovan sipped his drink. The only rational way to explain their behavior at this point was flirting, but they hadn't even been on a proper one-on-one date. In moments like these, Donovan often felt like a third wheel.

As the two chattered, Reina put her hand on Luan's shoulder. Donovan pretended not to notice, but he did, in spite of himself.

"I'll be right back," Donovan told them, but the two lovebirds paid him no mind. Donovan walked carefully (and somewhat drunkly) up the tavern stairs to the chilly winter scene outside.

The candlelit streetlamps glowed warmly on the snow-covered streets. During the day, the snow had been stomped on and pushed aside into piles, but at night, the messy scene was still and silent but for a whistling wind.

Donovan leaned against the wall and nursed his swimming head, which was thick with alcohol. The placid scene before him lurched as he lowered his gaze.

A figure in black armor approached.

"You look familiar," the figure said curiously. "Have we met?"

Donovan slowly raised his head and laughed. "You're the knight in training I fought on the road."

The figure nodded in recognition. "A full-fledged knight, now. I am called Black Knight."

"Due to your armor, no doubt," Donovan snickered, his words slurring ever so slightly.

"Indeed!" Black Knight said jovially. "How have you been, err… what was your name again?"

"Donovan," he replied. "And I suppose I've been well."

The two stood in silence for a moment.

"My best friend has fallen for a girl," Donovan said casually, the words surprising even him as they drunkly tumbled out.

Black Knight chuckled knowingly. "Haven't we all? Would this be that friend of yours I saw at that campfire with you?"

"The very same," Donovan replied. "His name is Luan. He's mischievous, a brilliant tactician and swordfighter, and at times, an absolute dolt."

Black Knight joined him at the wall. "I know the type. A knight a few years above me was just like that-- possibly the strongest fighter in the entire land, but put him in front of the lovely knight he fancied, and he'd grow weak at the knees!"

"I've never understood the point," Donovan said bluntly. "Such a display of weakness is shameful."

Black Knight folded his arms and laughed mockingly. "Perhaps you will feel the sting of Cupid's arrow one day, and we'll see if you'd say the same then! Besides, it takes true strength to open oneself up to vulnerability. Any old fool can shut everyone else out."

Donovan was silent for a long moment. "Have you ever worried that someone close to you is drifting away, and that there's nothing you can do to stop it?" he wondered quietly.

Black Knight gazed up at the sky, staring at the distant snowfall as it glittered in the lamplight. "Indeed I have," Black Knight said quietly. "The lovely knight I mentioned earlier… well, you could say she is a dear friend of mine. And like you, I suppose I fear I am losing her to the knight she fancies."

Donovan chuckled sadly. "The lovesick fools."

"Sometimes I wonder if the fool is me for hoping…" Black Knight trailed off and coughed uncomfortably. "Regardless, a person cannot subsist on a single romantic relationship alone. We can only hope that they won't forget us on the other side. Surely they will still want friends?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Donovan said distantly. Here he breathed deeply. "I ought to get back inside, but thank you for your words, Black Knight."

"My pleasure. I'll be thinking of you." Then Black Knight saluted slightly and clanked into the distance.

Donovan sighed. Surely Black Knight was right. Just because Luan had found a girl didn't mean he would abandon Donovan entirely, right? Surely these were drunken worries that he ought not pay any heed. His head felt a little clearer, so he stepped back into the bar.

Luan and Reina sat across from each other at the table deep in laughter. Reina played with a strand of her hair idly, and Luan had the widest, drunkest grin Donovan had ever seen. Luan scratched the back of his head sheepishly in response to whatever Reina had last said. 

"Oh, Donovan!" Reina said, startled. "I didn't see you walk up. Sorry."

"Reina and I were just talking about…" Here Luan trailed off and bubbled into fits of laughter. "Ahh, nothing, never mind."

Reina pursed her lips like she was thinking. "Luan and I thought we'd… umm..."

Luan frowned in thought. "Well, hmmm… Donovan, can I talk to you in private a moment?"

Donovan blinked in surprise but followed when Luan stumbled off to a private part of the bar.

"Donovan," he started, sounding excited. "I asked Reina out, and she said yes!"

Donovan sighed. "That's great," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"She wants to go on a walk to the north side of the town," Luan continued guiltily, "but I'd hate to leave you, and…"

"Say no more," Donovan said, raising his hand. "I won't be a third wheel to your activities. I'll head back to the hideout."

Luan looked relieved. "Thank you for understanding," he said, his eyes bright. "Donovan… I think she could be the one."

Donovan was surprised at the heartache that swallowed his chest when he heard those words.

\---

Years ago, when he and Luan had traveled between the Village and the Lich Yard for their first time, it had taken them almost two days. But that had been with poor gear and navigation abilities. Now, after years of travel and shortcuts, they'd optimized the route to a mere 3 hours of walking, if one was quick about it.

Between the alcohol and the weight of his own thoughts, Donovan wasn't quick about it that night. He trudged through the snow in bitter silence, simmering in negativity, and he rolled into the hideout a little after midnight. But that didn't matter. With some water, some sleep, and a fresh fire in the hearth, he'd be just fine. He'd plan the next heist with Luan in the morning. Things would return to a sense of normalcy.

He collapsed into his hammock without even taking off his armor.

Donovan slept in well past noon and woke up to a powerful hangover. He staggered about the hideout in search of water, wondering what time Luan had gotten home.

But then he realized Luan wasn't in his hammock.

The realization hit Donovan like a splash of cold water. His first instinct was panic-- had Luan gotten hurt? Had he been forced to sleep on the road somewhere? This behavior was completely unlike him.

But then Donovan remembered that Luan had been out with Reina, and realization dawned on him.

He sighed deeply and rested his forehead in his hand. He just wasn't going to think about it. After a long moment, he got up and went back to his hammock while his headache pounded in his skull.

\---

Luan stumbled home some four hours later. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, and he looked like the happiest man alive.

Donovan turned over in his hammock, reluctant to fully wake up. "I see you had a good time," he remarked bitterly.

"A gentleman never tells," Luan said politely, but the gleam in his eye told Donovan everything he could want to know and then some. Ugh.

"Well, good, because I don't want to hear about it," Donovan said grumpily as he turned to go back to sleep. 

He did end up hearing about it the next day, though. Not ALL of it, but most of it.

"We went up north of town and had a snowball fight," Luan said adoringly as the pair walked towards the mountain on their next heist. It was a light hike they'd made dozens of times. "But then she tripped in the snow, and I tried to help her up, but I tripped too, so we ended up making snow angels instead."

Donovan nodded aimlessly through the conversation, grunting intermittently.

"When it got late, she invited me back to her home, and I met the hedgehog family. They made us hot cocoa-- Donovan, are you alright?"

Donovan walked sulkily along the trail, ignoring him. Donovan was hard to read at even the best of times, but this sour mood of his left little to guesswork.

"Donovan?"

"I'm fine," Donovan snapped. "Go on and tell me more about that stupid date of yours."

Luan stopped suddenly on the trail, a wounded look on his face.

Donovan sighed sharply. "That came out harsher than I intended. I apologize."

Luan nodded. A look of indecision crossed his face, and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but he never did. Instead, the two completed the journey to their destination in sullen silence.

Once inside the mountain caves, they proceeded with the same practiced expertise with which they completed all of their heists. Luan was nimbler and better at scrambling into difficult locations to help Donovan up. Donovan was more efficient at dispatching passing monsters. Their instincts had been honed as a pair, and they wordlessly knew where the other would attempt to move, so they wasted no breath on strategizing aloud. Or any other conversation, really.

Today was a lucky day, and they found the cave walls teeming with fresh minerals to harvest: sapphires, emeralds, pink diamonds, the works. But their previous conversation tamped down the joy that such a discovery would usually inspire. The duo set to extracting the gems in uncomfortable silence.

"So… are we going to talk about it?" Luan asked as he loaded a sack full of gems.

"Talk about what?" Donovan said sullenly.

"It seems you don't like Reina much," Luan said casually, but his frown betrayed his concern.

Donovan sighed. "She's… fine," he relented. "But you've changed since you've been with her."

Luan shrugged as he continued his work. "She's all I can think about. My mind drifts back to her at every spare moment."

"The world doesn't revolve around her," Donovan said with irritation, dropping his own sack of gems to the ground. "I've played your wingman in this endeavor, but you're spending more and more time away, and even when you're here, she's all you talk about. And I worry..." Donovan sighed softly. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Luan frowned slightly, but before he could say something in response, a rumbling from the ground interrupted him.

"That's my turf you're digging in!" a coarse voice shouted as a plump man in red armor ascended from the ground, a plume of fire trailing from his helmet. "I am Mole Knight, and trespassers are to be punished!"

Donovan scoffed, secretly welcoming the distraction. "Oh, you own the mountain now?"

"I claim the subterranean domain in the name of my liege, King Pridemoor. Now abandon your ill-gotten loot and surrender, or face the consequences!" Mole Knight roared.

"Wow, a full-fledged knight! I am honored," Luan said with a bow, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Perhaps we have overstayed our welcome and ought to be on our way." He heaved the sack onto his shoulders and moved towards the exit.

"Did that unkempt mop of hair block my voice, or are you just stupid?" Mole Knight screeched. "I said put down the loot."

Luan smirked under his patchy beard. "Alright, as you wish, m'lord," he said as he slowly laid his treasure on the ground. Then, in an instant, he drew the cutlass from his back and pointed it at Mole Knight's throat.

"You wretch!" Mole Knight yelled as he moved to strike, but Donovan was behind him already, his sword drawn as well.

"I recommend you leave us be," Donovan warned. "Knight or not, you do not want to fight us."

Mole Knight's fiery plume erupted, forcing Donovan back. "I haven't let anyone get away from me before, and I'm not about to start today. If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get!" he said as he burrowed into the ground.

Luan turned to Donovan. "I think we can handle this. You?"

"Easily," Donovan replied with bravado.

Three years of defending themselves in the wilderness had strengthened their swordsmanship, and truth be told, Donovan was eager to test his skills against a true Knight.

Another patch of rumbling boomed out, and Donovan took position at Luan's back, sword drawn as he watched the walls for where this enemy might emerge from. 

"There!" Luan shouted as a patch of rock on the cave wall displaced. A red helmet poked through, and before they knew it, Mole Knight had burst out, belly-sliding across the floor, knocking them both over.

Then Mole Knight was back in the ground, and the two were left to wait again.

"Interesting strategy," Luan mused. "If we can catch him on his way out…"

"Behind you!" Donovan shouted.

This time, Mole Knight emerged, and the two split up, one to each side. Mole Knight's sliding brought him directly into the path of their blades. He roared in pain.

"Fine, you want funny business, do ya?" Mole Knight sneered. "Why don't you try this on for size?!"

Then a wall of sandstone dropped from the ceiling, and Mole Knight sent it barreling into them with lethal speed.

Luan's eyes went wide, and he froze in place.

Donovan's mind raced, and he instinctively climbed on top of it. His armored shoes had small cleat-like protrusions to aid in climbing; he leaped into the air and drove the protrusions into the surface of the sandstone.

The sandstone block crumbled and slowed to a stop.

Mole Knight scratched his head, confused at what had happened. That gave Donovan time to cross the room. Mole Knight shrieked involuntarily and burrowed into the ground once more.

"This foe is formidable," Luan remarked.

"Don't tell me you want to abandon the fight," Donovan scoffed. 

"You should know me better than that by now," Luan said with a grin that almost masked how rattled he was.

Then a patch of displaced earth appeared at Luan's feet. He slashed at it with his cutlass, and a voice groaned out in pain.

"Good eye," Donovan said, sounding impressed.

Then Mole Knight burst onto the floor and began to glow orange.

"Back!" Donovan shouted, but Luan was already out of harm's way. Mole Knight erupted into an inferno of flame, the splatters of which only narrowly missed Donovan and Luan.

Then Mole Knight burrowed back into the ground. Luan's eyes lit up like he had an idea.

Luan wordlessly stood at one end of the room, sword at the ready. Donovan matched his position at the opposite end.

Mole Knight emerged from the wall some fifteen feet up. Luan grinned. In an instant, he guessed where Mole Knight's trajectory would take him, and landed several solid blows in that spot. And when Mole Knight reached the opposite end of the room, Donovan was ready.

"Augh! You two are a thorn in my side," Mole Knight complained, sounding winded.

"Does that mean we're free to go?" Luan said with amusement.

"Over my dead body!" Mole Knight screamed as he erupted with flames once more.

Donovan looked over at Luan. He was starting to get bored of this fight, and while he still felt certain that he and Luan could handle this opponent, he didn't want to squander the energy they would need for their return trip.

Luan wordlessly understood that it was time to make their exit, and nodded in agreement before squinting slightly as he appraised his opponent. Then he smiled.

"Alright, then just try to stop us!" Luan taunted as he grabbed his bag of gems and bolted for the exit.

Mole Knight growled dangerously. 

Donovan's eyes widened, and he grabbed his bag of gems and followed. "I hope you have a plan for getting out of h---"

But he was interrupted by a booming voice behind them:

"If you think you know these caves better than me, you are sorely mistaken!" Mole Knight called out as he crashed into the wall.

Then a sizzling noise filled the room from behind them as a stream of lava came pouring forward.

Luan laughed as he ran ahead of the lava, his devil-may-care attitude starting to worry Donovan.

"Now would be a good time to reveal whatever plan you might have!" Donovan said apprehensively as he ran.

Luan leaped into a foothold ahead and held out his arm. Donovan grabbed it and climbed to a small, slanted cavern passage above. That put them out of reach of the lava, but if Mole Knight caught them in this narrow space, they'd be cornered…

Luan suddenly stopped running and started digging through his gem bag, looking for something.

"This is hardly the time!" Donovan cried out. God, Mole Knight was going to find them any second…

Sure enough, there was a rumbling up ahead in the passage, and Mole Knight popped his head out of the narrow ceiling ahead.

"Thought you could outrun me, did you?" he taunted.

Luan sighed dramatically. "Oh, you caught me. I guess I ought to abandon my ill-gotten loot." Then he set down his bag of gems, which rolled on the sharp incline of the cave floor towards the lava.

"No!" Mole Knight cried out. He eyed the two angrily, but burrowed into the ground to attempt to save the gems.

"Alright, let's go," Luan said in a businesslike tone as he hiked up the passage.

Donovan moved hastily towards the exit, but he couldn't resist a glance back at the scene below. He saw Mole Knight rescue the flame-licked bag, cradling the gems carefully. Luan had gambled with Mole Knight's motivations and won.

"How did you know he would…" Donovan wondered quietly.

Luan laughed. "I didn't!"

That was how close they had come to defeat in that passage. Donovan blinked and pushed those thoughts away as they ran.

\---

With the head start Luan had bought them, the two made an expeditious retreat from the mountainside and were able to successfully outrun Mole Knight.

"Shame about all those gems you had to leave," Donovan said when they'd put some distance between themselves and the mountain.

"Oh, I wouldn't feel too bad about that," Luan said mischievously, revealing four pink diamonds stowed in the sleeve of his coat.

Donovan laughed. "You sly dog."

"The rest of the bag had a pittance of sapphires, totaling less than half of one of these diamonds all in all," Luan guessed. "A price worth paying for our lives, I'd say."

"I suppose so," Donovan said in bemusement.

Then a silence fell among them as they walked the countryside back to the Lich Yard.

Luan coughed uncomfortably. "Reina… she's great and all, but she's not much for this kind of thing. And there's no one else I'd trust on a heist more than you, Donovan. You know that, right?"

Donovan couldn't meet his eyes. "This is a dangerous life. Will you truly want to keep adventuring when you have someone waiting up for you?" he asked quietly.

Luan smiled reassuringly. "What else am I going to do, get a job as a farmer? A lucky night for us pulls in more than a farmer's salary for a full year. And no matter what that Mole Knight fellow says, the mountain doesn't belong to him, nor to that fool he calls king. I'm happy to remind them of that as many times as necessary."

Donovan cracked a smile under his face covering, and together the two set off into the distance to return home.

\---

Back at the hideout, a full day's journey later, they counted their newfound wealth and unpacked from the journey. Between Luan's smuggled diamonds and Donovan's full pack of gems, they had enough for many solid meals and then some.

"Have you ever thought about replacing that cloak of yours?" Luan said lightly as he packed the gems back away."

"Not happening," Donovan said, sounding oddly serious.

"Are you sure? You've had it for as long as I've known you, and it shows," Luan said as he cracked a smile.

"I said no," Donovan said sharply.

Luan looked at him curiously. "Does it truly mean that much to you? I've never known you to be sentimental."

Donovan ran his fingers over the border of his cloak. "It's the… last remaining relic of a bygone era," he said distantly. "It stays."

"What era might that be?" Luan asked, pressing on in spite of Donovan's obvious reservations. "In all our years, you've never once spoken of your life before I met you."

"Nothing," Donovan said brusquely. "There's nothing to say. It's a time in my life I'd rather forget."

"Except for the cloak," Luan said with a raised eyebrow.

Donovan sighed. "Yes, except the cloak. Besides, it's not like you don't have your secrets. I know you keep something from the Seatlan Estates in the bedside table over there."

Luan raised his eyebrows. "I.. didn't know you knew about that. And you've never snuck a peek at it?"

"Of course not," Donovan said, shaking his head. "I assume if it was important that you would have told me about it. So whatever it is doesn't matter."

Luan nodded, his eyebrows raised. "Well, I thank you for your discretion, then."

Their conversation was interrupted by a muffled voice from the street above them:

"Blast it all, I know they always called it a secret hideout, but why does it have to be SO hard to find?"

Donovan blinked in surprise.

Luan's eyes widened. "That's Reina! What is she doing in the Lich Yard?"

He ran down the catacomb halls, no doubt intending to fetch his beloved. And sure enough, a few minutes later, he returned with Reina in tow.

"I'm honored you'd entrust me with the location to your secret hide--oh god, this place reeks," Reina said in surprise, covering her face tightly with her amber winter scarf. "And you two LIVE in this??"

"What do you mean by 'this'?" Donovan asked sharply, sounding offended.

"This mess!" Reina exclaimed. "The mildew, the crumbs, the cockroaches hiding in the corners…"

"It's not that bad," Donovan said testily.

"No, it definitely is," Reina said with disgusted surety. "And I'm not your mom, so you two are going to whip this place into shape yourselves. Catacombs or not, you owe it to yourselves to live in basic human dignity."

Luan nodded in embarrassment. Donovan folded his arms defiantly.

"Anyways, that's not why I'm here, actually," Reina continued. "A friend of mine is hosting an event, and I came by on her behalf to invite you both!"

Donovan squinted suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"The catch? There's no catch, for heaven's sake! It's a party!" Reina said exasperatedly. "You go and meet people and have fun! Do either of you have any friends outside of each other? And maybe me?"

Luan started to speak, but then he shook his head and went silent. Donovan thought for a long moment. Did Black Knight count as a friend? They had only spoken twice.

If that was the depth of the barrel he was scraping, then perhaps Reina had a point. 

"Very well. What is required for us to attend this event?" Donovan asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Reina said simply. "You can bring a gift for the hosts if you want to make a nice impression-- maybe a bottle of wine? Other than that, just wear nice clothing, no armor or weapons, and practice personal hygiene… Um, not to be rude, but you two do own soap, don't you?"

Luan laughed self-consciously. "Yes, I'm quite certain we own soap!" he bluffed, but Donovan wasn't sure they did.

"Glad to hear it. And in case you run out, here's some more," Reina said bluntly as she pulled a bar of rough lye soap from her pocket and pressed it into Luan's hands. 

Donovan wanted to be offended, and he would take offense later after he confirmed that they did in fact have soap in the hideout.

"And if you like that stuff, I can sneak you some of the fancy stuff the alchemists use," Reina said in a conspiratorial whisper. "It's this magical stuff called deodorant."

"No, alchemical nonsense is where I draw the line," Donovan said gruffly. 

Reina chuckled. "Fine, suit yourself. The event is in a week, so that should be plenty of time for you to change your mind."

"Doubtful," Donovan snapped. 

"Actually, I'd like some, if you don't mind," Luan said politely. Reina handed him a small, cloth-wrapped bar of some kind.

"See you boys next week!" Reina said cheerfully as she exited the catacombs.

Luan examined the alchemical substance after she left.

"That stuff's going to burn your skin off," Donovan muttered.

"I don't know about that," Luan said hesitantly. "Have you ever noticed that she never smells bad?"

"That's nonsense," Donovan disagreed. "Everyone smells. Some rich fools try to cover the smell up with flowers. But they stink as much as anyone else underneath."

"No, not Reina," Luan said dreamily.

"Well, you're welcome to that accursed substance if you want," Donovan said with a sigh. "Just don't come running to me if it turns you into a frog or something."

Luan laughed. "I don't think alchemy can do that, can it?" he asked nervously.

"There are rumors of alchemists performing transmogrification before. But you could always ask Reina next time you see her."

Luan considered, but instead he shrugged and applied some to the back of his hand. Donovan sighed.

\---

Over the next three days, Donovan was somewhat surprised that Luan DIDN'T turn into a frog. In fact, the strange substance worked perfectly as advertised. And after Luan went on a massive cleaning spree, their hideout was looking tidier than ever. Of course, nothing in the catacombs could be entirely rid of the mildew stench, but Donovan had to begrudgingly admit that it was an improvement.

In this pursuit of self-improvement, Luan even insisted on a trip to Birder Bluffs, where it was rumored that a reputable clothier could be found. Donovan objected to this, arguing that they didn't need fine clothes, merely passable ones that could be obtained locally in the Lich Yard. But Luan was persistent and Donovan eventually relented.

"Trust me, Donovan, it will be worth the expense. A good outfit is important to making a good first impression!" Luan said excitedly as they journeyed towards the Bluffs. They had a solid two day journey ahead of them, which left plenty of time for talking.

"What purpose is there in a good first impression in our line of work?" Donovan asked wryly. "Perhaps that was important in your days of youth as a nobleman, but not now."

Luan laughed. "Alright, you got me there. But it's still important to put your best foot forward when meeting people, isn't it? That way they think well of you."

"I've never much cared for others' opinions of me," Donovan said honestly. "It matters little to my ability to buy dinner."

"Yes, but life is about more than finding your next meal. It's also about the people you meet and care about," Luan said with a smile. "Prolonging your life doesn't mean much if you've got nothing to live for. People can be that reason."

Donovan chuckled darkly. "And sometimes they aren't. But... I suppose you're worth keeping around."

"Exactly!" Luan said, clapping his hands. "Now just think: maybe we'll go to this party and you'll meet someone who'll be almost as important to you as I am! I know, it's a high bar, but it could happen!"

Donovan laughed disbelievingly.

"And then if you find a romantic partner, we could go on double dates or something," Luan continued. "It could be nice."

Donovan put his head in his hand as he walked, suddenly very interested in the scrub brush in the scenery. 

"Luan, have you ever known me to express romantic interest in anybody?" he asked with a sigh.

"No, but can you say with certainty that it couldn't happen?" Luan said with a wink. "Reina has many lovely noblewoman friends. And some handsome noblemen as well! You have options, my friend."

Donovan sighed. He couldn't say with certainty that it couldn't happen, strictly speaking. But on the other hand, the whole situation was stupid and he was probably stupid for going along with it.

"Don't get your hopes up," he grumbled. 

\---

When they went to make camp that night, Donovan took first watch. The smoldering campfire struggled against the chill of the wind, and even in their sequestered corner in the rocks, it would require constant care to stay lit through the night. 

Donovan turned the firewood over with his sword. In the corner of his eye, he watched Luan sleep peacefully, his chest rising and falling under his woolen travel blanket. Back at the hideout, Luan always snored like a blacksmith's workshop, but out in the wilderness he slept silently. Donovan chuckled quietly to himself.

As he tended the fire, he tried to imagine the kind of person Luan had described earlier. What kind of person might draw Donovan's interest, anyway? Someone tall like Luan? Or witty like Reina? Or perhaps a strong fighter like Black Knight? Try as he might to imagine it, he couldn't. Donovan wasn't half a person waiting to find someone who completed him. He felt content with the circle of people in his life already, as small as that circle might be.

Still, it was important to Luan, so he would give it a fair shot. So he'd play along with these silly nobleman's games, up to and including the silly clothing, if it would make Luan happy.

\---

A long journey later, they reached the towering mountain peaks of Birder Bluffs.

The air grew thinner as they ascended, and the two found themselves stopping to catch their breath more often. Still, Luan's spirits remained high.

"I've never traveled this way by foot," he laughed between breaths as he rested at the top of a ridge. "When I came here as a child, we would use the family carriage!"

"That would be useful right about now," Donovan admitted from his seated position atop a nearby rock. "Pity they won't rent horses to us at the Village."

"I'll have you know that I have excellent horsemanship and that old gelding was on his last legs before we even left the Village," Luan grumbled.

"Right, right. And maybe one day the horsekeepers will believe you," Donovan said wryly.

Luan raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I murdered my own horse? We were outside the Stranded Ship when it happened, of all places! If I'd done it on purpose, you'd think I'd do the deed in a pleasant meadow outside town."

Donovan laughed. "I think they were looking for an excuse to not do business with us anymore. Something about aiding and abetting criminals."

Luan cracked a smile. "Well, we haven't been properly caught yet, or we'd be seeing Wanted pictures of ourselves at the Juice Bar."

"Right, like that hat-stealing fellow," Donovan said, remembering the poster of a helmeted man wearing all kinds of strange hats.

"And the times we came close worked out," Luan continued. "It was too dark in the armory shop for the Lich Yard guards to see us, and Mole Knight would have to admit that we got away if he reported us, and I'd be willing to bet his pride won't allow it."

"And if it does?" Donovan asked.

"Well, then we'll take it as it comes, won't we?" Luan replied with a twinkle in his eye as he stared out at a structure in the distance. "I think I see our clothier, by the way. Perhaps a few hours out from here."

"Almost there," Donovan said, sounding relieved.

\---

"Ahh, welcome welcome!" the helmeted man from the Wanted poster greeted as they walked in. "All the fanciest fashions, the finest clothing and hats, all here for your perusal. You can call me Mr. Hat."

Luan lit up with fashion questions, and entered a brisk conversation that went over Donovan's head completely. He at least vaguely knew what silk was, but he'd never heard the terms "brocade" and "topstitching" in his life.

"I only buy from the finest suppliers, and can guarantee that every piece here is a labor of love!" The hatted merchant continued. "Look at the evenness of the stitching! The clean finish to the seams! The hand-stitched embroidery!"

Luan nodded discerningly as he sifted through the piles of fabric. Donovan had no idea what Luan was looking for, and his own eyes wandered to the rest of the store. It had elegant windows, fine wallpaper, and neat tile floor. How did such a place exist in the middle of nowhere in the mountains??

His gaze turned to a selection of berets in the corner.

"Ah, your friend has fine taste," Mr. Hat said approvingly to Luan. "It would be a travesty for you both to continue hatless! We can rectify that immediately."

Donovan frowned slightly. "I'm not sure that's necessary."

Mr. Hat clapped his hands. "Of course it is! Let's get you out of that ratty old cloak and scarf--"

Donovan snatched Mr. Hat's wrist mere inches away from his face, glaring daggers at the merchant.

Mr. Hat laughed uncomfortably and withdrew his hand. "Or not!"

Luan scratched his neck sheepishly. "My friend can be somewhat… shy with his appearance. He's never taken off that scarf even for me! I trust you can accommodate?" 

Mr. Hat nodded. "Of course, of course! I have many hats that conceal one's face. Look at the fine plumage on this war helmet!"

"Actually, we're under strict orders not to bring armor to the party," Luan laughed. "What else do you have?"

What then followed was an absurd montage of Donovan trying on various hats and headwear, each piece seemingly more absurd than the last. Berets became top hats, jester hats, dunce hats, and even a strange broad-brimmed item that Mr. Hat called a "sombrero." 

The parade of hats tested Donovan's dwindling patience, although Luan seemed to be enjoying the display, judging by his uproarious laughter.

"Do you have any scarves?" an exasperated Donovan finally asked after he'd had enough.

Mr. Hat tutted. "Well, I suppose so, but you haven't tried this lovely feathered cap yet!"

Donovan glared at him.

"Right, yes, scarves!" Mr. Hat said gleefully as he rifled through his inventory. "I think I have some pieces that will impress you! Red would be a good color on you, wouldn't you agree?"

Donovan grunted affirmatively.

\---

Eventually, Mr. Hat helped them select a few suitable outfits: leather boots, woolen pants, fine white silk shirts with matching gloves, and waistcoats in red with gold trim. Donovan wore a red silk scarf across his face like usual, but his head was bare of any hat or covering, revealing his short dark hair. He tugged uncomfortably at the white fabric ruffles at his throat; Mr. Hat and Luan had assured him that this was the height of fashion, but it felt a little too ostentatious for his tastes.

Luan, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease in his own similar outfit. He turned in his waistcoat, examining its fit in the mirror. Donovan was no expert, but he didn't have to be in order to say that it looked good on Luan. Surprisingly good, actually. Who knew Luan cleaned up so nicely?

"I think these will do," Luan said approvingly. "We'll take them."

"Excellent, excellent!" Mr. Hat said excitedly. He then named a price for the clothing that made Donovan blush under his scarf.

Luan, to his credit, kept his cool very well, although Donovan knew the price was ten times the amount they had brought with them. "Of course, we'll need alterations done," Luan said offhandedly, and Donovan would have overlooked the quaver in his voice entirely if he hadn't been paying close attention to Luan's reaction. "So if you have have those done by the date of the event, then we can pay you for them then!"

"I see," Mr. Hat said coolly. "I can have them delivered directly to your estate, then. What royal family did you say you were from?"

"Oh, we'll have no need for that," Luan said with a laugh. "My friend and I are hoping to make a splash at the next ball in this attire, so we'll need discretion to maintain the surprise! In fact, I will meet you outside the Village personally before the event to ensure their safe arrival."

"Very well! I shall see you both at that time, then! Mr. Hat said with a clap of the hands. 

\---

As soon as they changed back into their normal clothes and escaped earshot of the shop, Donovan laid into Luan.

"What were you thinking?!" Donovan shouted.

"I panicked!" Luan exclaimed. "I wanted to impress Reina, and I got carried away in the experience. It's been so long since I've handled fineries such as that."

"Well, I hope it was worth it, because we now have a problem on our hands," Donovan seethed. "How do you propose we obtain 100,000 gold in five days?"

Luan shrugged. "Plunder the Iron Whale?"

Donovan laughed disdainfully. "Do you have any ideas rooted in reality? Like canceling the order?"

Luan walked in silence for a moment, staring at the mountain peaks beyond them. Donovan recognized that determined glint in Luan's eye and sighed. He wasn't backing down from this, was he?

"I'll think of something," Luan muttered. "We can reach the Armor Outpost by nightfall and spend the night at the inn. A hot meal and a good night's rest will invigorate our thinking."

Donovan wasn't sure that would solve their problem. But on the other hand, perhaps it would help Luan reconsider this reckless pursuit. They set off in the direction of the Armor Outpost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if greek mythology exists in shovel knight world. probably? maybe? I made a reference to cupid anyway, dwi lol  
> Also distances in shovel knight continue to be impossible to gauge! They're different from game map to game map, for pete's sakes! I BS'ed everything in this regard lol  
> Also legal drinking age is 18 in some places IRL, so underage drinking is not happening
> 
> Anyone figured out what Donovan's deal is yet lol (I haven't outright said it yet, but I haven't exactly tried to hide it)


	6. The Tournament

By the time they reached the Outpost, the sun had set and the sky had turned dark. Donovan and Luan walked the lamp-lit streets in search of an inn, but they were surprised to find them all full.

"Why are there so many people here?" Luan asked curiously after their third attempt at finding an inn.

"This is unusually busy for the Armor Outpost," Donovan agreed. 

Their fourth attempt yielded success, although the lounge-like common area was chock full of people, mostly tired-looking men and women in intimidating armor. The Outpost had no rules against weapons in the village borders, and Donovan saw them carrying everything from maces to swords to bows and arrows.

After taking their money, the inn owner happily served up a bowl of stew each for Donovan and Luan, which they happily accepted as they went to sit by the fire. A few feet a way, a tall, armor-clad man told a tall tale to an audience of listeners.

"But his daggers were no match for my morningstar, and I walloped him good in the back of the head!" he cried out triumphantly. The crowd whooped in excitement. 

"I wonder what that's all about?" Donovan said to Luan.

"Oh, you came!" a voice said from a few tables away.

Donovan looked over and saw none other than Black Knight seated at a table with two other knights he did not recognize. Black Knight excused himself and walked over towards Donovan and Luan.

"Couldn't keep yourself away from temptation, could you?" Black Knight said with a laugh.

"Hardly. What's all the fuss about?" Donovan asked.

"The Winter Tournament!" Black Knight replied. "It's a place for knights and newcomers alike to prove their worth in battle. There's even a cash prize!"

Luan raised his eyebrows eagerly. "How much of a prize?"

Black Knight leaned forward. "100,000 gold," he said zealously.

Luan and Donovan exchanged a look as the same thought crossed their minds at the same time.

"Alright, we're in," Luan decided. "How do we sign up for the tournament?"

\---

Donovan and Luan hurriedly joined the tournament the next day, scarcely reading the paperwork as they signed whatever the clerk required. And then with the formalities aside, they were in.

The tournament proper took place in a cleared field just outside the Outpost. A natural hillside made for a kind of an amphitheater that was perfect for watching the battles, and a few hundred souls had taken up seats to do exactly that. Vendors selling street food walked up and down the aisles to keep the audience fed while they watched the violent battles below.

Donovan and Luan wouldn't be up to fight for a few hours yet, so they took up seats of their own to watch the competition in the meantime.

The structure of the tournament was simple. One on one competition, any weapons were allowed, and the first to either forfeit, go unconscious, or cross the circular boundaries of the field would be eliminated. A team of medics watched on standby, prepared to offer magical healing remedies if the battle grew too fierce. Although lethal blows would disqualify the competitor who dealt them, the presence of the medics meant that competitors could fight more violently than they normally might. 

Scattered throughout the audience were criers who would describe the nitty-gritty details of the battle for onlookers who might not catch them otherwise. They also helpfully described the competitors and their heroic deeds.

"Lemme tell ya, folks, I wouldn't want to go up against the veteran Polar Knight in this weather!" one commentator laughed. "He's been a longstanding champion of the Winter Tournament for years now. Oof, look at him go! The freshly inducted Mole Knight is out of his element here, but he's trying his best to hang in there…"

Down in the arena, Polar Knight swept up enormous snowballs with his shovel and lobbed them at Mole Knight, who was struggling to claw through them all in time.

"Polar Knight is the famed protege of the late Spade Knight, may she rest in peace," the crier continued. "She only passed her techniques on to three students in her lifetime, and all three are warriors of great renown! We're fortunate to have them all at our tournament this year."

Polar Knight's snowballs had Mole Knight on the run. As Mole Knight kept stepping back to give himself more time to respond to the snowballs, he drew ever closer to the border of the arena, which was a line of rope laid over the snow.

"Uh oh! Mole Knight is gonna have to do something different, or the competition is over for him!"

Mole Knight dug into the ground, narrowly dodging Polar Knight's huge shovel as it lunged towards him. Polar Knight stepped back, watching the ground for where Mole Knight would emerge.

Then Polar Knight seemed to laugh under his salt-and-pepper beard, and he dug at a seemingly normal patch of ground. With a toss of his shovel, he lifted the patch of ground--with Mole Knight in it-- and tossed the whole thing over his shoulder, past the borders of the arena.

"Aaaaand we have a winner!" The crier cried out. "Polar Knight advances to the next round of the Knight's bracket! Next up we have a newcomer named Spore Knight, who will be facing…"

"What did you think?" Luan asked Donovan. "Polar Knight made it look so easy!"

"Indeed," Donovan said with a laugh. "I hope we aren't out of our depth here."

"Well, the newcomer's bracket starts after this match," Luan pointed out. "It'll be a good chance to scope out the competition."

\---

The competition, if it could be called that, wasn't substantial. Donovan and Luan watched in secondhand embarrassment as two competitors haphazardly waved training swords at each other.

"Have either of them even held a blade before today?" Luan asked in a pained voice as he cradled his forehead in his hand.

"Look at the left one's form," Donovan pointed out. The left competitor walked awkwardly, his ankles splayed out and knees bent far too much. When his competitor reared back for an obvious lunge, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to retreat.

"We probably looked like that when we first started," Luan said good-humoredly. 

"We can't have been that bad, can we?" Donovan asked, wincing as the competitor on the right swung wildly. The overzealous blow nearly sent him falling over in the process.

"Everyone starts… somewhere…" Luan said with a sigh. "And eventually they learn point control. Hopefully."

Donovan had struggled with point control in his early days, but hours of drills with Luan had helped. That and not using a rapier, of course. Why limit oneself to only being able to stab when you could instead use the entire length of the blade? Being able to control the point of one's blade became less important when other parts of the blade were useful.

Eventually one of the competitors tripped, and his opponent pinned him to the ground at the chest. He forfeited, and the match was done.

Donovan felt better about his chances.

\---

"Alright, you're up next," a burly tournament runner said to Donovan. The tournament runner held a long, complicated scroll in his hands and seemed very busy. 

Donovan nodded and stood up.

"What was your name, again?" The tournament runner asked impatiently.

Donovan frowned. "Does it not say on that scroll?"

The tournament runner sighed. "Not your real name, you simpleton! Your stage name! You didn't think Polar Knight was the name his mother gave him, did you?"

Donovan stared. 

"Sword… Knight?" he said stupidly.

The tournament runner pinched the bridge of his nose. "First off, it'd be Sword Fighter, since you're not a knight yet, and second, that's the stupidest name I've ever heard. Try again. What sets you apart from the other competitors?"

Donovan looked at the armored contestants around him. None of them seemed to be wearing cloaks, at least.

"Cloak Fighter?" Donovan said hesitantly.

The tournament runner inhaled sharply and looked through his scroll. "Surprisingly, we don't have any other cloaked competitors this year, but you're on thin ice," he said grumpily before turning to walk away.

What a silly rule, Donovan thought. He'd happily go into the arena under the name Donovan. He didn't care. But as it stood, Cloak Fighter would do.

Then a crier called out from the distance: "Next up, two more newcomers! On the right: you may remember him from his courageous attempt last year in the newcomer's bracket, but he's not a knight yet, so give a round of applause for The Baz!"

A brawny older man with a whip stepped out, flexing his muscles for the crowd.

"And on the left, a fresh face to the tournament this year. He calls himself Cloak Fighter!"

Donovan stepped out and drew his blade. His opponent wore spiky shoulder plates, but no breastplate that he could see-- just a simple linen shirt. That made him an open target for Donovan's blade. Also, he must be freezing in the winter weather.

"Yeah! Get ready to taste the wrath of The Baz!" the man shouted, cracking his whip theatrically.

Donovan said nothing, but he walked forward calmly.

"Let the battle begin!" the tournament runner shouted, sparking a cheer from the crowd. Donovan sighed sharply, determined to ignore the onlookers.

The Baz grinned, his eyes crinkling under a coat of dark eye makeup. "You're going down!" he cheered as he snapped his whip at Donovan.

Donovan caught the whip on the end of his blade and swirled it up like a fork swirling spaghetti. Baz's eyes went wide as Donovan's sword pulled the whip from his hands and cast it aside.

"Wait, uh, you can't do that…" Baz said worriedly.

Donovan marched forwards, blade drawn menacingly. In a few moments, he'd cornered Baz against the border of the arena.

"Do you forfeit?" Donovan asked seriously as he brandished his blade at the Baz. There was nowhere for him to run.

"I… Never!" The Baz shouted as he lunged towards Donovan with his fists.

Donovan stepped easily to the side and tripped The Baz as he ran. He face planted into the snow.

Donovan nudged the tip of his blade into The Baz's exposed back. "Now you forfeit," he ordered.

The Baz had no choice but to do so.

"And the victor is Cloak Fighter!" the tournament runner shouted, which brought on a loud cheer from the crowd. The attention made Donovan uncomfortable, and he slipped quietly away before anyone could see his face redden under his scarf.

Back in the contestants' waiting area, he met a grinning Luan.

"That was a fantastic display, my friend!" Luan said proudly. "If you keep that up, the prize money will be ours in no time!"

Donovan smiled slightly under his scarf. As hare-brained as this scheme was, he'd had fun out in the arena. As long as he could ignore the blasted crowd, at least.

"Alright, I'm up next," Luan said with a start as he stood up from the log bench. "May I meet with the same success that you did!"

"I'm sure you will," Donovan said encouragingly.

And with that, Luan adjusted the collar of his coat and walked off. Donovan found a seat with a nice view and sat to watch Luan's match.

The tournament runner bellowed to the audience. "On the left, another newcomer to the Winter Tournament who calls himself Sneak Fighter."

Donovan snickered. Was that Luan's selection? And here he thought he himself was bad at names.

"And on the right, another fresh face who calls himself Tinker Fighter."

A short man on a moving platform of some kind folded his arms gruffly. He wore a welding helmet and thick gloves, and seemed more comfortable in a workshop than here in combat, let alone in front of a crowd. Donovan could sympathize.

"Let the match begin!" The tournament runner shouted.

Donovan sat back, ready to watch Luan smoke the competition.

"I hope you'll forgive me," the so-called Tinker Fighter called out, "but I have work to get back to, so I'll make this short."

Luan laughed. "And who says I'll let you?"

Tinker Fighter shrugged and started tossing a pile of wrenches at Luan, who frowned in confusion. He dodged most of them, but one or two clocked him in the head. He rubbed at his head in pain.

"Alright, enough of that!" Luan shouted as he ran towards his opponent, blade at the ready, but Tinker Fighter abruptly drove backwards and out of reach on that strange device of his. It seemed too fast for Luan to keep up with, which surprised Donovan. All the while, the strange tinker continued tossing wrenches.

Finally Luan sighed in frustration and stepped out of range of his opponent's wrenches.

"I'm done chasing you. Just come and get me, will you?" Luan called out.

Tinker Fighter laughed before calling back, "Fine, as you wish."

Suddenly, he let loose a pile of daggers that rocketed through the air towards Luan.

Luan's eyes went wide and he scrambled to dodge them, but one lodged in his shoulder. He cursed.

Tinker Fighter flinched in surprise. "Please give up the match," he shouted as he hurried over. "Shoulder wounds can kill if left on their own."

Luan waved him off and tried to stand up, but Tinker Fighter was right-- the wound was bleeding too much. Luan coughed and forfeited the match.

"Luan!" Donovan shouted as two medics helped his friend walk out of the arena and back to the bench in the waiting area. Only now did Donovan see another wound in Luan's leg, which caused him to limp severely.

"Hey Donovan," Luan said with an out-of-breath laugh as the medics treated his wounds. "I suppose that could have gone better."

Donovan scowled. "Those injuries look serious!"

One of the medics, a young woman with golden hair, laughed lightly. "It's not as bad as it seems," she replied. "I've worked as a magicist for years on wounds like these. With how promptly we were on the scene, your friend will be good as new in a few short days."

Luan smiled. "See? Nothing to worry ab--" he started before cutting himself off with a grunt of pain. The Magicist shrugged and continued bandaging the wounds on his leg.

"Here, have a health tonic," she said, handing Luan a vial of red liquid. "It'll help you heal faster."

Luan choked down the foul-smelling liquid, and true enough, his breathing steadied a few minutes later.

"I think we should go home," Donovan said sternly. "This was a fool's errand."

Luan's face turned downcast. "No, I'll be fine. Don't let my foolishness stop you from succeeding where I failed. I would love to see you triumph over that opponent of mine."

Donovan frowned.

By now the medics had finished their task, so they packed up their equipment and set out to watch the next match.

Donovan sighed. "What if something worse had happened?"

Luan laughed it off. "I've been through worse already, and I'm sure I'll go through worse still. 

Donovan closed his eyes and sat down next to Luan.

Luan stared into the distance, the gears in his head turning.

"Donovan," he said suddenly. "When you fight Tinker Fighter, be sure to keep a close distance. Almost all of his attacks are ranged, and I'm certain he has less recourse if you can keep close. But he's fast on that gear device of his. You'll need to launch a full attack as soon as the battle starts…"

Donovan listened intently, nodding intermittently.

\---

Donovan's second match was against the winner of the pathetic newcomer's match he and Luan had watched when they first walked in. The poor fellow could barely hold a sword, and a simple parry/riposte made short work of him. And although Donovan did go gentle on his opponent and the wound he inflicted was deliberately shallow, his blade did draw blood, and his opponent bawled as he left the arena. Donovan felt bad.

"Hey, don't feel bad," Luan said with a weary grin when Donovan returned. "The medics brought that fellow with the mace wound in his head back from the brink of death. I'm certain your opponent will be cured of the paper cut you inflicted in no time."

"Still, I suppose this tournament brings out all sorts," Donovan said curiously. "For every competitor like my opponent, there's one like Tinker Fighter. It makes for an unbalanced competition."

Luan laughed. "I suppose so."

As the tournament runners set up for the next match, a surprising face approached Donovan and Luan.

"Tinker Fighter?" Luan said surprisingly.

"The same," the fellow said amiably from beneath his welding mask. "I did want to apologize again for what my knives did to you. Perhaps this prototype needs some revisions."

Luan laughed. "No, it did its job perfectly! I can't fault you for that."

Tinker Fighter scratched the back of his head through his welding gloves.

"Truth be told, combat isn't my forte," Tinker admitted. "I'd rather be in my workshop making toys, but I need to expand my workshop, and…well..."

"The prize money would help with that," Donovan guessed.

Tinker laughed. "Yeah, it would."

Luan smiled sheepishly. "Well, now I feel bad. I was going to put the prize money towards a foolish debt I got myself into. Maybe it's just as well that your magnanimous goals won over mine."

Tinker shrugged. "Well, it's not entirely out of good will. I have plans for a whole tower I want to build-- a huge factory of cutting-edge technology. So I guess I'm in it for the challenge as much as anything. I want to leave my mark on the world."

"Well, I wish you luck," Donovan said with a nod. "Hopefully you'll meet your goal next year after I defeat you in our match."

Tinker laughed as he tossed a wrench in the air and caught it. "You're free to try!"

Then he walked away.

"He seems a kind enough fellow," Luan remarked.

"A pity he's so difficult to hate," Donovan said with a chuckle. "But I'll triumph over him regardless."

\---

Donovan's match wasn't scheduled until the next day, so he and Donovan spectated the remaining day's matches for entertainment. It was a carefree afternoon of heckling, criticizing, admiring, and appreciating the combat on display.

"That Shovel Knight is a fierce competitor," Luan said with raised eyebrows as Shovel delivered a crushing blow to his opponent. "I hope I never face him in battle."

"Agreed," Donovan said, his eyes glued to the battle. Shovel Knight had flawless technique. He had a grounded offense, he deflected his opponent's blows easily, and his signature move involved leaping over his opponents and crushing down on them from above. His opponents had little recourse against it.

Eventually, Shovel Knight won the fight with a blow to the skull that left his opponent unconscious. The crowd roared with approval, and Shovel Knight bowed politely to the audience and… blew a kiss? Donovan wondered about the mysterious person who had earned the favor of this prestigious knight.

"That's the last of the matches for today,' Luan said as he stood up. "Shall we head back to the inn for the day?"

"I suppose so," Donovan agreed. 

So they headed back along the snowy, well-trodden path towards the inn.

"I always fancied us competent fighters," Luan contemplated aloud, "but this competition has shown the breadth of skills this land has to offer."

"Indeed," Donovan replied. "I wonder what kinds of lives our competitors have lived to forge such skills?"

"Probably lives much like the one I left," Luan said with a laugh. "Most knights have noble lineage and opportunities that others don't. They are trained from a young age in combat and other chivalrous duties. Did you know I was a page boy in training for that very duty?"

"Really?" Donovan said, astonished.

"From ages seven to fourteen!" Luan replied. "Of course, then everything else in my life went to pot, and you found me. But I was in training to become a knight before that."

Donovan paused. "If you could do it all again, would you become a knight instead?"

Luan laughed. "God no! I was a child. My head had been filled with tales of glory from infancy, and I thought it was what I wanted, but… well, you've seen the power King Pridemoor wields. Trust me when I say his claim to the riches beneath the volcano is the least of it."

"Is he truly so corrupt?" Donovan asked, glancing at the sparse crowd of people around them. One couldn't be too mindful of who might be eavesdropping.

"He means well," Luan said noncommittally, mindful of his own words as well, "but he still believes the crown grants him the divine right to rule everything in the land. My parents told me stories about the King and his ancestors as they expanded the boundaries of the kingdom, crushing anyone who stood against him. Now the serfs work the land, and the fruits of their labors go to the King and lords above them. They live in castles while we struggle to find our next meals. The knights defend the system by using force against any who would subvert it. That's not justice."

Donovan thought of his meager days on the street as a young teenager, going hungry for days at a time, and the distrustful faces of the townspeople who had the resources that he did not. And when he had taken food for himself, the knights of the town guard had punished him, and…

Donovan shook the memories away. "It isn't justice."

Luan's eyes glinted in the light of dusk. "I always wondered what the world would be like if we didn't have a crown at all. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Easier to ask what the world would be like without dragons and divedrakes," Donovan quipped.

Luan laughed. "Maybe so," he said wistfully. "But… it's nice to think about sometimes. It would be a better world, I think."

Donovan nodded somberly. 

\---

By now they had reached the inn's entrance. They went inside and got stew for dinner again.

This time, the crowd regaled the day's matches in the tournament, including Shovel Knight's legendary final battle. The Blue Burrower himself was there, surrounded by an adoring crowd at all times, and Donovan was surprised to see Black Knight seated at the same table. He wondered how they knew each other.

"The poor fool can't seem to get any peace," Donovan laughed as a desperate onlooker pleaded for Shovel Knight's autograph.

"I'd much rather languish in obscurity here by the fire," Luan said with satisfaction as he leaned lazily against the wall.

The bartender stayed busy getting drinks for the thirsty crowd, and the tales grew grander and more boisterous as the evening went on. Donovan and Luan listened from the corner, beers in hand, and laughed along with the crowd. It was a surprisingly merry scene, and after a while, Luan stood up.

"You all haven't heard the best story yet," Luan boasted as one storyteller finished his tale. "For those of you who missed the newcomers' matches, allow me to regale you with the tale of how I won against Tinker Fighter."

"Bullshit!" a man cried from the corner. "You got beat into the ground!"

Luan shook his head, a mischievous look in his eye. "No, you've got it all wrong."

And then he offered a wildly distorted version of events, full of exaggeration and even outright fabrication. By the time Luan got to the part where he beat Polar Knight with his own shovel, the crowd was roaring with laughter. 

"So of course, when Tinker's flying dagger was about to miss me completely, I took pity on the poor fellow," Luan said boldly. "Instead of leaving him to languish in an obscure defeat, I snatched the blade from mid-air and graciously allowed it to stab me."

Even the heckler from the corner was in on the joke by this point. And when Luan finished his tale with a bow, he was greeted with raucous laughter and a smattering of applause.

"Tell us the story of how you beat Treasure Knight!" an audience member clamored. She was joined by murmurs of agreement.

Luan laughed. "Maybe tomorrow," he said graciously. 

Then another storyteller jumped in with a tale about how SHE had beaten Treasure Knight, and the crowd's attention passed to her. 

Luan took the opportunity to retire to the room. Donovan followed soon thereafter.

It was a small, cozy room with thick blankets to ward against the winter chill. A little pricier than Donovan would have liked, but on the other hand, it had been the best night's sleep he'd had in ages. Neither a hammock nor the road could compare to a comfortable bed.

"You've always had a talent for a tall tale, my friend," he laughed as he turned to Luan.

Luan smiled. "What can I say? All of those campfire tales paid off."

"Perhaps so," Donovan agreed.

Luan sat down on his bed and rubbed his shoulder, wincing in pain. "Perhaps I was careless in my match," he admitted. "Promise me you'll be more careful than I was?"

Donovan nodded. "I'll do my best. But we'll get those fancy clothes you wanted one way or another."

Luan laughed. "I'm glad to have you as a friend. Thank you for helping me out of my silly mistakes."

"Don't worry about it," Donovan replied easily. For Luan, he'd do just about anything.

\---

The next day, they got breakfast from a street vendor and headed to the arena. Donovan's mind raced as he remembered Luan's advice and his own memories of the Tinker battle. There must be a weakness to Tinker's battle strategy, and Donovan would find it.

"Donovan?" Luan asked, startling him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"I just asked what was on your mind," Luan teased. "You seem jumpy."

"The tinker is a formidable opponent. You and I together could take him, but a solo match will be more difficult," Donovan said cautiously.

"You aren't nervous, are you?" Luan asked curiously.

Donovan sighed sharply. "Of course not. I just want to be ready is all."

"Well, if you don't trust yourself to be ready, then you can at least trust me to have prepared you well," Luan said with a wink. "With my tactics and your swordsmanship, you can't lose!"

Donovan chuckled disbelievingly.

Then Luan caught him by the arm. Donovan froze as his gaze met Luan's.

"It'll be like I'm right there with you," Luan said reassuringly. "Just.. don't get stabbed."

"Thanks for the sage advice," Donovan said snidely. But… truth be told, he did feel better about the upcoming match after that.

\---

At the arena, Donovan sat apprehensively in the waiting area. The crowd was bigger this time, and it threatened to unseat his carefully maintained calmness towards the whole affair.

Tinker waved amiably from the opposite side as though to wish him well. Donovan responded in kind. 

Then the last of the knights' bracket semifinals finished, and he was up.

"Now for our newcomers' finals!" the crier shouted. "On the right we have crowd favorite Tinker Fighter, who easily demolished Sneak Fighter and Hat Fighter in earlier rounds. He's definitely proven himself a competent fighter!"

The crowd cheered, and Tinker grabbed the back of his neck bashfully.

"On the left, we have Cloak Fighter, the competition dark horse. He fought easy rounds compared to Tinker Fighter's storied past. Will he rise to the competition? Or will he get complacent from his previous success? Let's find out!"

The crowd's cheers filled the air, and Donovan fought the instinct to run for cover. Crowds made him nervous, and crowds of people paying attention to him went against everything he knew. 

But he would do this for Luan. 

He took a deep breath and tightened his scarf around his face. Then, with his sword drawn and ready, he walked forward.

"Let the finals begin!" the tournament runner shouted.

Donovan's combat instincts flared to life. He watched Tinker's movements, trying to predict what he'd do next. Tinker wasn't a combat expert, and he made no efforts to feint or otherwise hide his intentions. Donovan lunged towards him.

Tinker cried out in surprise and wheeled back on that device of his, narrowly missing the tip of Donovan's sword.

"Cloak Fighter is taking an aggressive approach towards his competitor!" the crier shouted. "That could pay off for him if he doesn't leave himself open to attack!"

Tinker lobbed a series of wrenches in Donovan's direction. Luan had warned him that the wretched things packed a punch, so Donovan carefully dodged around them as he maintained his pursuit. 

Tinker seemed acutely aware that Donovan was closing the distance between them. His mobile gear revved up and sped away.

Donovan exhaled sharply as he picked up the pace. That thing sure could move.

Tinker tossed a pile of wrenches at Donovan to slow him down. Donovan responded by swatting them from the air with his sword. Tinker had to run out of resources at some point, right?

After chasing Tinker around the arena for several minutes with no sign of him stopping, Donovan had to stop to catch his breath. He needed a different plan. If he wasted his energy sprinting around the arena, he'd get nowhere.

Tinker took this opportunity to launch several flying daggers, just as Donovan predicted. Luan had warned him about their strange flight pattern, and he was able to slice them from midair before they wounded him.

Tinker Fighter flinched in surprise when this happened.

"Come and get me," Donovan chided. 

Tinker launched a few more daggers, but Donovan slashed them from the air as well.

"You can't run forever. Let's finish this," Donovan called out.

Tinker had no intention of playing along, though. He tossed an errant wrench into the air and zoomed away.

As the wrench sailed through the air, Donovan predicted its trajectory. He stepped to the side and lined up his field of vision, and in a movement that felt more instinctive than cerebral, he slashed through the wrench and dashed towards Tinker with impossible speed.

The bisected halves of the wrench fell discarded into the snow. Tinker froze atop his mobile gear as he processed what happened. In this lapse in Tinker's attention, Donovan crossed the distance between them and knocked into him with the flat of his blade.

Tinker Fighter flew backwards and into the snow, dethroned from his mobile gear.

Donovan gave the gear a solid kick, sending it driving aimlessly across the arena borders and into the distance.

"Crap," Tinker Fighter said simply.

Donovan lunged.

Tinker put up a valiant fight, tossing wrenches to and fro, but Donovan slashed through all of them and closed in on him.

"How can that sword cut through tungsten?!" Tinker shouted in frustration.

Donovan paid him no mind, instead reaching Tinker himself and slashing through his shirt sleeve. The fabric bloomed red as he fell to the ground.

"Fine, fine, I give up," Tinker said, his gloved hands raised in surrender. "You got me off my mobile gear. I know how the rest of this will end."

The crowd cheered unintelligibly in the distance, but Donovan paid them no heed. Instead, he sheathed his sword and extended a gloved hand to help Tinker up. 

"You fought well," Donovan said, sounding impressed. "I had a difficult time chasing you down."

"And I had a hard time landing blows on you!" Tinker laughed. "Ah well. I'll fix up my inventions for next time, and I'll be ready. If we cross blades again, I won't go easy on you!"

"I expect not," Donovan said wryly. "Take care."

Tinker exited the arena to have his wounds treated. Donovan went to do the same and collect his prize money, but he was stopped by the tournament runner.

"You didn't forget about the bonus round, did you?" The tournament runner said incredulously.

"I beg your pardon?" Donovan said impatiently

Then the crier's booming voice filled the arena:

"Cloak Fighter has won the newcomers' bracket, and the cash prize of 50,000 gold. But for another 50,000 and a chance at knighthood, he'll be facing the famed Black Knight in combat!"

Then a familiar set of armor strutted into the arena to thunderous applause.

"I knew you'd come around eventually!" Black Knight said with a sardonic laugh. "But if you want to become a knight, you'll have to get through me!"

Donovan stood in shock.

"No, there must be a misunderstanding," he said in confusion. "I'm only here for the prize money. I don't want to become a knight."

Black Knight laughed. "That's unheard of! Why settle for a pittance of gold when you can have twice the amount and your own land? You'd be a nobleman, a prestigious servant to the crown!"

"I refuse to serve the crown," Donovan said with irritation. "I've been mistreated by knights my whole life. I refuse to become one of them."

"Let the match begin!" The tournament runner shouted.

Black Knight lunged forward with his shovel.

"I said no!" Donovan shouted as he parried the blow with his own blade.

"You don't know what you're saying!" Black Knight shouted back. "Do you know how many people toil for years, even decades to have the opportunity before you? How many people dream of this moment that you would casually toss away?"

"If you hadn't lied to me about the nature of the tournament, I wouldn't have joined at all!" Donovan yelled as he stepped forward, knocking Black Knight back with the hilt of his blade.

Black Knight growled as he stumbled back. But instead of lunging towards Donovan, he dug up a pile of dirt and snow, sending large chunks of debris flying. Donovan dash-slashed through them to reach Black Knight.

"You said the prize was 100,000 gold," Donovan said coldly as he slashed at Black Knight's shovel hilt, almost making him drop it. "You made no mention of the lifetime of servitude. Was it an afterthought to you?"

"Most people would be honored to serve!" Black Knight shot back. "King Pridemoor is a fair and just king. I am loyal to the crown."

Donovan leaped into the air and bore down on Black Knight with a series of quick dash slices. Black Knight stumbled backwards and into the ground. Donovan kicked Black Knight's shovel away and dug his own elbow into Black Knight's breastplate.

Black Knight lay on the ground in a stunned silence, defeated.

The tournament runner's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. "And in a groundbreaking upset, the winner of the tournament is--"

"I forfeit," Donovan shouted, interrupting him. "I forfeit the match. I will not serve as a knight."

The tournament runner blinked in shock.

Donovan ignored the stunned silence of the crowd as he walked away. He even ignored Luan's shocked expression as he marched to the front table in front of the arena.

"I'm here for my prize money," he said simply to the clerk at the table.

The worker at the table couldn't have been older than eighteen. She wore humble clothing and a shocked expression.

"Sir, are you completely sure that you… uh…" She struggled to get the words out.

"Just the prize money," Donovan confirmed. "I will not be serving as a knight."

The worker raised her eyebrows as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Very well," she said with surprise. She walked into a small tower behind her, which was guarded by several low-ranking knights in golden armor. They let her through, and a few minutes later, she emerged with a few sacks of gold.

"Here you are, sir, 50,000 gold," she said as she held them out for him. "But it isn't too late to change your mind."

Donovan nodded in understanding as he accepted the gold. "Thank you for your help. But you must understand that for me, it definitely is."


	7. Going Back for the Rest

Some time later, Donovan and Luan reconvened in their room at the inn. They sat in silence on their respective beds, their thoughts weighed down by the events of that morning.

"Donovan…" Luan started.

Donovan sighed. "Are you going to tell me that I was a fool, too?"

Luan shook his head. "I was going to apologize. I didn't realize the terms of the tournament."

"The blame for that falls equally on my shoulders," Donovan said sourly. "I should have read the terms and conditions more carefully."

Luan looked at him. "And even after all of that, we still only have half the funds we need. You won them fair and square. It's not fair."

"Indeed not," Donovan sighed. "I had a… foolhardy thought."

"What's that?" Luan asked curiously.

Donovan paused. "I saw the tower where they stored the prize funds. And I'm seriously tempted to see if we can sneak in and take the funds ourselves."

Luan's eyes lit up. "Now there's an idea," he mused. "How difficult do you think such a venture would be?"

"I only saw a few Goldarmors outside," Donovan replied. "So while there's no accounting for any reinforcements inside…"

"... it's a gamble worth making," Luan said with a grin.

"Perhaps," Donovan said cautiously.

Luan sat cross-legged on his bed as his mind puzzled through the heist.

"We won't have much time to prepare," he mused. "They'll likely be moving the funds soon, if they haven't already."

"Are you in a fit condition to do this?" Donovan asked seriously.

Luan paused to consider, rotating his shoulder around experimentally. "It's a bit stiff, but I'll manage for 50,000 gold."

"If you're sure," Donovan said suspiciously.

Luan stood up from the bed and grabbed his pack. "Well, let's start by checking out the place."

\---

Donovan and Luan hid out in a nearby bush and scoped out the site.

The small tower was shaped like a rook on a chessboard-- mostly cylindrical, but with a flat platform on top and a scalloped wall. It had a few windows near the top of the walls, but it was hard to tell if they were large enough to enter. If so, it'd be a tight fit. The stone exterior of the building was rough enough to climb, at least.

Donovan counted two Goldarmors at the front and likely four more inside, judging by the numbers when they changed shifts. Sometimes the Goldarmors could be seen climbing onto the roof of the tower to check the surrounding area. There were also two patrolling the grounds around the tower. 

This area was well out of the way of the town proper, with lots of empty space for the arena. Ordinarily, it might even have counted as wilderness, but with the tournament going on, there were no less than ten skilled knights within shouting distance of the tower at any given time.

It was becoming abundantly clear that this would need to be a stealth mission. 

"What would you recommend?" Donovan asked Luan when they were out of earshot of the tower.

Luan drummed his fingers on the sword scabbard at his hip.

"First things first, we have to take out the patrol guards," he said slowly as he thought it through. "I think I have something to help with that. A gift from Reina. One of her alchemical assignments was to distill the venom from a rare divedrake species. Drip a few drops in a rag, force it against a victim's airways, and they'll be out in less than a minute."

"Impressive," Donovan said with a nod.

Luan smiled. "So I figure we can use that on the two patrol guards. It should buy us half an hour. From there, we can climb the back of the tower and either enter through the windows or the trap door I assume exists on the roof."

"What about the Goldarmors at the front?" Donovan asked.

"If we're quiet, they'll stay put while we do our business," Luan answered. "That way we don't have to waste venom on them."

"And the tower interior?" Donovan added.

"That part I'm not sure about," Luan said with a sigh. "We might just be going in blind. But we know there's at least 50,000 gold somewhere in that building. Judging by the shape of the tower, it shouldn't be hard to find."

"Very well," Donovan said nervously. "I admit that I dislike how heavily this plan relies on alchemical nonsense."

"Reina received high marks for the compound, so it should be plenty effective," Luan said reassuringly. "Has her alchemical knowledge ever led you astray?"

Donovan struggled with words for a moment before sighing sharply in frustration.

"Not her specifically," he said begrudgingly. "But alchemists as a whole, yes."

"What?" Luan said incredulously. 

"When I was younger, I… required the services of an alchemist," Donovan said distantly. "After some searching, I found myself in the company of an old man calling himself the Alchemeister. He offered an alchemical concoction, but he lied about its effects, and in some ways it made the situation worse rather than better."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Luan said sadly. "But you and I both know Reina is different. She wouldn't lie about something like that, right?"

Donovan sighed. "I hope not."

\---

When dusk fell and visibility in the area weakened, Donovan and Luan grabbed their equipment and set to their uphill task.

Each selected one of the patrolling Goldarmors and pursued their quarry.

Donovan's target stood idly a few hundred feet away from the tower, staring vacantly into the wooded area in the distance. Donovan crept quietly from behind a nearby tree trunk as he drew closer. If he was careful about this, he could take out the guard without showing himself.

The Goldarmor stretched boredly and looked around. Donovan froze from behind the tree until the Goldarmor's clanking armor indicated he had changed position. Almost there…

He approached from behind the Goldarmor, just a few scant feet away. He was close enough to count the feathers in the knight's helmet plumage if he wanted.

Instead, he lunged towards his opponent, venom-infused rag in hand.

He locked his elbow around the neck of the Goldarmor and pulled on the helmet. It came loose to reveal the round, youthful face of a terrified knight. He tried to scream, but Donovan was too quick with the divedrake venom, and the victim's screams were muffled into near-silence.

Donovan counted out the seconds in his head, waiting for it to take effect. After thirty or so excruciating seconds, the Goldarmor stopped struggling and went lax in his grasp. He gently lay the unconscious guard on the ground and propped him up against a tree. His time started now.

Donovan sprinted back to the tower, taking less care to step quietly now that his guard was subdued. Luan should be finishing up right about now…

Sure enough, Luan quietly approached, wearing a mischievous grin. It would seem he had been successful.

Next came the wall of the tower. This was Luan's specialty. He removed his boots and socks, clipping them to his belt, and began his ascent of the icy tower walls, carefully feeling for grooves in the wall with his toes and fingertips. Donovan was surprised Luan hadn't gotten frostbite from doing this nonsense in the winter so many times, but as always, Luan seemed to pay the chilly weather no mind. 

As Luan slowly made his ascent, Donovan listened carefully to his surroundings. This was possibly the most vulnerable part of the plan. If either of the Goldarmors at the front felt the need to go to the back of the tower, Luan would be caught red-handed. Or heaven forbid if Luan should fall from such a height. Donovan could only stay silent, listen, and give Luan warning if he heard something.

After several minutes of climbing, Luan ascended the thirty or so feet to the highest windows. He carefully peered through the window to view the inside, and he smiled. The view from the window must have been informative.

Then Luan grabbed a length of knotted rope from his pack and looped it around a protrusion on the tower roof. The tail end dropped to the ground where Donovan waited. If Luan had brought out the rope, he must have thought their chances were better as a duo than for him alone.

Donovan hastily climbed the rope, finding purchase with his armored feet in the tower walls. His climb was faster than Luan's with the rope's aid. 

Once he reached the the top of the rope, Luan gestured to the trap door on the roof. Donovan nodded. But before he entered, he peered through the window near the roof.

The thirty-foot tower was almost completely empty inside, save for a spiral staircase on one end that led down to the ground floor. Inside, four Goldarmors sat in the center of the room playing cards. Donovan stifled a snicker.

Luan pointed to the far side of the room inside. Donovan saw their prize sitting on a shelf with other sacks of money.

Over their years of adventuring, Donovan and Luan had picked up a kind of sign language to communicate silently. Resting his elbow on the windowsill, Donovan freed his hands enough to ask if they should take the full amount or simply the 50,000 he was promised.

Luan frowned and held up five fingers. Just the 50,000, then.

Donovan pointed at the guards with his thumb.

Luan paused to consider while he sat on the roof, replacing his shoes and socks. Then with his right hand, he walked his index and middle fingers slowly across his left hand, followed by a shrug and a slashing motion with his arm. Sneak past if we can, fight if we can't.

Donovan nodded in understanding. Luan slowly pulled back the (luckily unlocked) trap door on the roof, and Donovan led the way down the staircase.

The tower was drafty inside, almost as cold as the windswept grounds outside. The Goldarmors had started a fire in the hearth at the bottom of the building, which cast strange, dancing shadows through the building interior. They chatted idly at the bottom about the card game, with one asking another if they had any fours, etc.

The spiral staircase Donovan descended was made from stone, which luckily spared him the risk of any creaky stairs. Still, he stayed low and stepped gently, not wanting to draw their attention with harsh footsteps. The staircase was almost completely visible to the people below, and this wasn't his first time at the rodeo.

The bags of gold sat on a shelf, tantalizingly close to the bottom of the stairs. It was so tempting to grab them and make a run for it. But Donovan knew from experience that bags like that would make noise when they were moved, and the simple clink of rustling gold pieces could be enough to betray their position. He had to be smart about this.

He had nearly reached the ground level now, and he was very worried about drawing the attention of the Goldarmor playing cards across the room. One simple glance up from their hand would end the whole operation. Donovan waited until their turn and ducked behind a shelving unit, out of sight.

Then Donovan realized something: The shelf that held the gold was empty in the back, and the bags of gold were stacked two deep. If he took one from the back of each stack, the Goldarmors would be none the wiser.

Donovan turned back to Luan and signaled for him to prepare the rope for their escape. Luan gave a thumbs up and returned through the trap door.

Next came the most delicate of tasks: moving the bags. They were thick canvas and full to the brim with coins, each weighing around 25-30 pounds. Carrying five of them at once was not impossible, but doing so gracefully and silently would be a challenge.

Donovan gently lifted the first bag, which settled slightly in his grasp but did not create enough noise to draw attention. Donovan found the bag's handle and threaded a rope through it. The other end of the role was tied solidly to a makeshift harness he wore for the express purpose of transporting heavy prizes like this. The bag of gold found its place at his waist, dangling securely from the harness.

Then one by one, he loaded up four more bags in the same way. 

Still the Goldarmors carried on with their game, blissfully ignorant to the actions taking place behind the bookshelf. Donovan stepped gently forwards, testing his new center of gravity with all of this gold. The bags settled quietly as he walked, their tiny noises masked by the crackling of the fire.

This could work.

Donovan listened to the game, and when one player made a move that caused an uproar, he made his move for the stairs, hiding behind the back of the spiral staircase as the players settled down. And so he proceeded through the first several turns of the spiral staircase, where the danger was highest.

"Did you hear something?" One of the Goldarmors said suddenly.

Donovan froze behind the staircase, his heart pounding in his chest. Had he been discovered?

"No, did you?" another Goldarmor replied.

"Listen closely," the first one instructed. "If you pay close attention, you can hear the sweet, sweet sound of me winning my bet!" Then the Goldarmor slammed a card down in the center, causing an uproar.

Donovan took this distraction as an opportunity to move quickly and quietly for the trap door.

Once on top of the roof, he found Luan standing at the ready next to the finished ropes. Luan eyed the bags of gold at Donovan's back and grinned. But they didn't have time to celebrate-- they weren't out of danger just yet.

Luan had changed out the thick, knotted rope for a thinner one that was twice as long. He held the rope for Donovan as he rapelled down the tower, and Donovan returned the favor for him at the bottom. Then Luan gathered up the rope and they sprinted into the woods, hoping that the patrol guards hadn't woken up yet.

\---

They ran for fifteen straight minutes into the wilderness before thinking to stop.

"We did it," Luan said, a grin spreading across his face under his patchy beard.

"We did," Donovan said, only now daring to breathe a sigh of relief.

Luan broke out into a belly laugh, and Donovan found himself laughing too. This had been perhaps their most audacious scheme yet, and dozens of things could have gone wrong. But they didn't, and they had claimed their prize. They exchanged a jubilant high five.

"We should take this back to the hideout," Donovan said, wiping tears of laughter from his eye.

"Agreed! No sense spending any longer in this town than we have to," Luan said with a nod. "You were really something in there. I don't know how you got all that out without a fight."

"When we next stop to make camp, I'll tell you the whole story," Donovan promised.

The idea of spending one more night in the comfortable bed of the inn tempted Donovan, but he didn't want to risk strutting into town with visible bags of illicit loot. Luan agreed and fetched their initial prize from the room before checking out.

Not too much later, they found themselves camping on the road once more. A daunting prospect in the winter, but less so when surrounded by 100,000 hard-earned gold pieces. They found a cozy cave off the beaten path of the road and staked their camp there.

Donovan was exhausted from the day's events, so Luan offered to take first watch--but not until after Donovan told the story of how he got the gold out of the tower.

"Alright, alright," Donovan said, smiling under his scarf in the light of the campfire. "So there was this bookshelf at the bottom of the stairs…"

\---

The weight of the gold slowed their travels substantially, and it took another two days to get back to the hideout. Donovan's back ached from carrying the weight of the gold that far, and while Luan had mostly recovered from his injuries just as the Magicist predicted, Donovan noticed him stopping to rub his shoulders more and more as they traveled.

It was both a literal and figurative weight off their shoulders to unpack their quarry into the hideout, lock the door, and get a good night's rest without fear of being overrun by bandits. 

The next morning, they needed to figure out a way to get it all to the Village. They had one day until the party.

"Do you think Reina would let us borrow horses again?" Donovan wondered aloud.

"It would be many hours of travel there and back if she said no," Luan pointed out. "And perhaps it's my laziness or exhaustion speaking, but I would prefer not to spend another day walking if I could help it."

Donovan laughed. "Fair enough," he said, still aching himself. "But the roads between here and the Village are busier than the ones leading to the Outpost. I'd prefer not to risk a confrontation while carrying the gold."

Luan contemplated. "It's a pity we can't trade this gold for something equally valuable but easier to carry."

"Unless we could…" Donovan pondered.

But there was only one person who could discreetly help with something like that.

\---

"Welcome back, gentlemen," Chester said, giving them a casual finger gun as they approached his merchant stall in the Lich Yard. The gold was back in the hideout, secured as safely as possible, but Donovan and Luan both itched to get back to it as soon as possible. 

On the other hand, neither trusted Chester alone with the other. So they both had to come along for this venture.

"We need your help with something," Donovan started, "but before we tell you what with, we need your promise of discretion."

Chester laughed. "I'm in the merchant business, not the snitching business. Whatever you need help with, your secret is safe with me."

"Very well," Luan said seriously, his dark eyes checking their surroundings for eavesdroppers. "We recently came into a grand sum of money, and we need to transport it to the Village. Unfortunately, the gold is too heavy and conspicuous to travel with safely. We need to exchange it for something more convenient."

"But it needs to be liquid currency," Donovan added. "Not a relic or something else the recipient will have trouble spending."

Chester smirked as he scratched his chin. "I'm not a bank, you know."

Donovan raised his eyebrows. "The Lich Yard doesn't have a bank, and you know it," he said pointedly. 

Chester laughed. "Alright, point taken. I assume your recipient would have no problem spending gems?"

Donovan and Luan exchanged a look. Neither had ever met a shopkeeper who didn't accept gems, so it was probably fine, right?"

"That would work great!" Luan said with a smile.

"Excellent," Chester said smugly.

"What price do you require for the service?" Donovan asked bluntly.

"Always right to the point with you, Donovan," Chester said with a sigh. "Of course, I can't provide this service for free. But for, say, a conversion fee of 10% of the fee, I could be convinced."

Donovan shook his head. They didn't have 10,000 gold to spare on that.

"Here's a different question: how do you transport all of your money and goods?" Donovan asked. "If you sold us a magical means of transporting funds, we'd be all the more likely to work with you in the future for it."

Chester raised his eyebrows. "There's a thought," he mused. "I do have such a wallet for sale. It'll magically hold up to 99,999 gold, but first it'll cost you 5,000 gold."

Donovan and Luan exchanged a glance. That was expensive, but it could pay dividends in the long term. Eventually they both nodded.

"We'll take it," Donovan said, handing over the money from their savings.

\---

With the funds and a method of transporting them procured, all that was left was to actually hand it over to Mr. Hat. They started walking towards the Village.

Donovan had misgivings about spending so much money on something frivolous. But Luan's excitement at the prospect stilled Donovan's tongue. 

"You're really looking forward to this, aren't you?" Donovan asked.

"I am, I admit it," Luan said, grinning. "It's been a long time since I've had anything expensive to my name. And Reina's friends are well-connected. I want to impress them."

Donovan said nothing for a moment, the silence only broken by their footsteps crunching in the snow. 

"I don't think we can hide this from them forever," Donovan said seriously. "What we do, I mean."

"Reina seems to hide that she's an alchemist well enough," Luan said with a shrug, squinting in the afternoon sunlight as they turned a bend in the path. "People don't need to be told what they wouldn't understand anyway."

Donovan said nothing. Instead he lowered his hood to protect against the sun's rays, obscuring his face from view.

"It's just…" Luan struggled with words for a moment before sighing. "I want to be a part of her life. Properly. Not just someone she sees at a bar sometimes. And meeting her friends is a part of that. I need to be a part of their lives, too."

These last few days at the tournament, Donovan had almost forgotten about Reina and her role in Luan's life. But it appeared she had been on Luan's mind the whole time.

"You're serious about her," Donovan said simply.

Luan nodded. "I am. Our relationship is still new, but I want to believe it will last."

"I see," Donovan replied.

Luan looked worriedly at Donovan. "Do you think it will? Do you think we have a chance?"

Donovan thought back to Reina's laughter, the way she touched Luan's shoulder when they talked, the tender look in her eye when Luan caught her from above that spike trap…

"I think you do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. chloroform can take up to 5 minutes to knock someone out, so instead of using that, I invented fake movie chloroform to use it here lol. As it turns out, any chemical compound that knocks you out in less than a minute is really dangerous, and that's not really what I want for this scene. But that's ok-- magic exists in this world, so I'mma lean on that here
> 
> 2\. on the other hand, the compound the Alchemeister used is a real compound that we'll find more about later
> 
> 3\. also I ran into the problem of "how much do gold coins actually weigh, anyways?" In Shovel Knight canon, all four main character knights can carry up to 99,999 gold at last check, even though the weight of that gold plus the weight of armor should be far more encumbering than it seems from the game! Luckily, magic exists. It's really handy lol
> 
> 4\. I'm really excited for chapter 8 you guys


	8. The Big Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite happy with how this chapter came out. I hope you enjoy it

Luan exchanged the funds for the clothing without incident outside the Village.

"It's done," he said with a grin as he carried a parcel wrapped in paper and string. "We can leave our weapons at Reina's house and change there."

The plan caught Donovan by surprise, but it seemed sensible. And he was a little curious to meet the Hedge family, admittedly.

Luan knocked at the door. A friendly-looking hedgehog in green robes answered. 

"Luan! Nice to see you again," the hedgehog said cordially. "And I see you brought a friend."

"This is Donovan," Luan said, gesturing next to him. "He'll be attending the party with me tonight. Would you be so kind as to allow us to change into our party clothes here? We just bought them."

"Please, come on in!" the hedgehog said, opening the door wide. The home was small and humble, with two side rooms and a main living area. Well-worn green couches decorated the front living room, and a wood-fuel stove sat in the corner, not currently in use. Outside the window, Donovan could see a vast snowy field, no doubt the family farm in its off season.

"Donovan, you can call me Hedge Farmer. Hedge Pupil is there in the back corner studying. And of course, I'm told you've met Reina."

"I have," Donovan said.

"Brilliant! She's still getting ready in her room, but if she doesn't come out soon, I'll break out the baby pictures!" Hedge Farmer directed this last phrase towards Reina's bedroom, sounding like a bickering sibling.

"You wouldn't!" came Reina's muffled response from behind the door.

Hedge Farmer laughed. "Anyways, we're built right over the water main, so we have running water and a dedicated washroom and everything. Feel free to make yourselves at home while the princess finishes getting ready."

"Farmer, I will kill you!" Reina shouted from the next room. Hedge Farmer winked.

Donovan went in to change while Luan and Hedge Farmer chatted idly, and after several minutes of fiddling with the various parts of the suit, he emerged victorious in his red and gold waistcoat. He wore his new crimson scarf wrapped securely around his face, but no cloak or hood.

"Looking good!" Luan said approvingly. "It's so rare that you go without a hood! I wonder how you keep your hair so short when I never see you get haircuts."

Donovan still wasn't a fan of the ruffles at his throat, but he'd put up with it for an evening. As for his hair, when its length annoyed him, he'd chop it off with his sword. It was probably nearly time for him to do so again, as it was starting to tickle at his ears and neck.

"I see you're keeping the mysterious look," Hedge Farmer quipped. "I have to wonder if you have a face under that scarf."

"I don't," Donovan replied. Hedge Farmer laughed.

"Alright, I'm up next," Luan said as he took his turn getting changed.

That just left Donovan and Hedge Farmer.

"So how did you meet Luan?" Hedge Farmer said conversationally.

"We met a few years ago. Neither of us have family to speak of, so we've stuck together ever since."

Hedge Farmer nodded.

"I hope you'll forgive my asking, but I'm likewise curious how Reina joined your family," Donovan asked back.

Hedge Farmer laughed. "A fair question. Her parents died when she was very young, and my parents took her in. We've been like siblings ever since. We take care of each other, perhaps in the same way as you and Luan."

Donovan smiled a bit under his scarf. "Perhaps so."

Then a voice from the bathroom interrupted them both:

"Alright, I'm ready to make my grand entrance!" Luan said excitedly.

"Well, come on out, then," Donovan told him.

Luan stepped out. Donovan raised his eyebrows.

Donovan had never understood the purpose of tailoring, but seeing Luan walk out in that outfit, he got it. The outfit had looked nice on Luan before, but the tailoring had brought out something new in the outfit. The gentle curves in his shoulders and waist, the way the tailcoats casually draped down, even the way Luan had casually rolled up the sleeves…

"It looks good," Donovan said, coughing quietly. "You look … good." Truth be told, that was an understatement. 

Luan laughed shyly. "Well, that Mr. Hat fellow did his work well," he said as he examined the outfit in the mirror. "Fits like a dream, just like he said it would."

"I'll say," Donovan thought, and he almost said it, too. But then the squeak of a door hinge caught everyone's attention.

Reina walked out in a floor-length green ballgown. She'd tied up her long dark hair in a fancy-looking hairstyle, and she wore matching green eye makeup. She carried a thick fur coat at her side.

Luan went speechless as every coherent thought left his brain all at once. Reina laughed.

"Well, don't you boys clean up nicely!" she teased. "Matching red coats and everything. That's adorable."

"No you're adorable!" Luan shot back, but when he realized what he'd said, his face went bright red. "I mean, well, you are," he muttered bashfully.

Reina snickered. "You're adorable too, Luan," she said as she kissed him on the cheek. "I've missed you these past few days."

"Well, I had to go get these clothes for the party!" Luan replied, his face still red. "And my thoughts were with you always."

"I'm sure," Reina said with a raised eyebrow. "They certainly weren't on the wild adventures I'm sure you had in my absence."

"Alright, there were some of those," Luan admitted. "But it was all with this evening in mind, I promise. Now let's go have a fun time!"

"Indeed!" Reina said with a smile. "My friend Lisa got a carriage to take us to the host's estate. She'll meet us at the street corner."

As they headed out, Donovan noticed that this suit jacket of his didn't protect against the cold as well as his cloak, as old and worn as it may be. He quickly found himself shivering, though he tried his best to hide it.

"She should be by any minute now," Reina said, pulling her thick coat closer to her. "Oh, Luan, you must be freezing! C'mere." Then she enveloped him in a huge bear hug with her thick coated arms. 

Donovan turned away.

Eventually, Lisa did arrive with a horse and carriage. She ushered them into the main carriage car while a hired driver took them to the main event.

Lisa had green eyes and hair, which she kept in a stylish bun on her neck, and Donovan couldn't help the feeling that he'd seen her somewhere before.

Luan figured it out before he did, though. "You look familiar. Could you be the Juice Maid at the bar?"

Lisa laughed, crossing her amber-sleeved arms. "That would be me! Lisa the barkeeper, longtime friend of Reina, at your service. Since you've decided to date my best friend, Luan, I'm here to give you the third degree!"

Donovan laughed. He liked the cut of her jib already.

Luan laughed as well and tugged nervously at his collar. "Alright, ask away," he said resignedly.

And ask she did. Her list was thorough and covered everything from his favorite color and food (red and steak and potatoes, Donovan already knew) to his intentions towards Reina. When Lisa was satisfied that he was not an axe murderer, she turned to Donovan.

"And what about you?" Lisa said cheerfully.

"What about me?" Donovan said suspiciously.

"Well, I have questions for you, too. Tonight is a couple's event, and Reina told me you would be my date…" Lisa wheedled.

"She said WHAT?" Donovan cried out, eyes wide.

"Ha! I got you with that one!" Lisa laughed. "Just kidding, it's a regular social. But the look on your face!" She cracked a grin.

Donovan sighed deeply and turned to stare out the window of the carriage.

Reina rolled her eyes. "Lisa's a joker. I hope you'll forgive her," she said playfully to Donovan, who merely grunted in response.

The carriage ride took another half an hour or so, and they passed the time with conversation. Mostly Reina, Lisa, and Luan, but Donovan chimed in at least a few times.

But he couldn't help wonder if Reina was trying to set him up with Lisa. If so, it wouldn't work. He already knew she wasn't his type.

\---

Finally the carriage let out at the front gates of a marble mansion in the rich part of town. The pathway to the front was nicely swept and lined with lanterns that glittered in the snow.

Reina held out her arm expectantly, and Luan politely offered his own to escort her in. Lisa looked over at Donovan and grinned. Donovan sighed and did the same. This etiquette nonsense was getting to be a pain.

Once inside, the staff of the house directed them to the ballroom, which already had several dozen people in it, and more were still coming. An orange-clad musician in the corner played a lively tune on the lute, and several groups of people danced along. The grand chandelier filled the room with light, expensive decorations lined the walls, and the air was filled with music, chatter, and delight.

Donovan decided that this was too many people for his comfort, so he took the only sensible course of action: he beelined straight for the refreshment table.

The hostess, a lovely horse lady in a purple dress whose name Donovan didn't catch, had arranged for a variety of expensive-looking hors d'oeuvres. Donovan asked the names of a few of them and couldn't pronounce them after hearing them. But the refreshment table had sushi, and Donovan loved sushi, so he loaded up his small plate full of it.

At the other side of the table, a gentleman in a garish green outfit entertained a group of young ladies who seemed enamored with him. The gentleman himself wore a gold helmet, and Donovan bristled at that-- he had himself been explicitly told not to wear armor to this event. Who did this arrogant fool think he was?

Even more absurd was the contraption attached to the helmet, which had four flat blades and two handles sticking out of it. The gentleman pressed a button on the handles, and the blades spun to life. The ladies surrounding him oohed and aahed at the display.

Where had Luan gone? Donovan was out of his element here. He searched wildly through the ballroom, only to see Luan and Reina slow-dancing to a waltz. Curse him. Lisa had settled into a group of talking women, and they seemed to be having a grand old time that Donovan dared not interrupt.

Donovan was on his own. He realized that perhaps coming to this event was a mistake. Nothing to do now but wait for it to pass.

He settled into the corner of the room, watching the socialites around him laugh and talk and dance. How did they do it? They made it look so easy. He didn't have the courage to join them, so instead he brooded in his corner, slowly making his way through his plate of sushi.

Suddenly, the gentleman in green approached.

"May I have this dance?" he asked Donovan in an accent he couldn't place. Donovan blinked in surprise and hesitantly accepted.

The gentleman in green gracefully led him to the outskirts of the ballroom, perhaps sensing that the hubbub of the center might spook Donovan off.

"You have been brooding in that corner of yours for some time now," the gentleman said wryly as they took position to dance. "That is unacceptable! You are at a party! Live a little!"

"I don't think I caught your name," Donovan said curiously, trying his best to follow along with the dance.

"I am Propeller Knight, the ruler of the skies!" he said with a flourish, spinning around on his feet before resuming his dancing position. "But I am more interested in you, my mysterious friend. What brings you here tonight? What is your story?"

"Well, uh, I'm Donovan, and I came here with some friends, but they seem to have been… caught up in other activities," Donovan said bitterly, looking over his shoulder. Reina and Luan danced on, content in their little bubble separate from the world around them.

Propeller laughed knowingly. "Might that be the couple you've had your eyes on all evening?"

Donovan flinched in surprise, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. "I wasn't-- I didn't--"

"You must tell me, is it the lady or the gentleman?" Propeller Knight asked playfully.

"It's not like that," Donovan stammered, his face growing warm under his scarf.

Propeller laughed easily. "My friend, you are not as difficult to read as perhaps you think you are. This thing is plain as day to everyone except you, it seems."

Donovan had no response to this, but he noted that his hands grew clammy inside his silk gloves.

The end of the song couldn't come soon enough, but when it did, Propeller's voice took a softer tone.

"Perhaps you would like to step out for a breather with me?" he said kindly.

Donovan shakily accepted.

The two stepped out of the ballroom and found a secluded patio in another corner of the house. The brisk winter air jolted Donovan back to his senses like a splash of water. It had been far too warm in the ballroom anyway.

Propeller leaned against the railing. "Ah, Reina Hedge," he said fondly. "Quick with a quip, but slow to settle down."

Donovan was silent.

"Surprising she found a partner," Propeller Knight continued. "If he caught her lasting attention, he must be a rare gem."

"That he is," Donovan said distantly as he stared into the distance.

Now Propeller turned to face Donovan. "Have you told this rare gem how you feel?"

"I don't know what you're…" Donovan trailed off. "And even if I did feel that way, which I don't, he's in love with someone else. No good would come from it. Our friendship is enough."

Propeller laughed and stared into the distance. "Is it enough, though? Perhaps for some. But others want more. And if you want more, my mysterious friend, you owe it to yourself to be honest about it."

Donovan sighed. "I suppose you must be some kind of expert on this?" he said sarcastically.

"Why of course! Of everything in the world, the thing I am best at is wanting things," Propeller Knight laughed. "I am a pirate by trade. I soar the skies and plunder what I desire from passing airships. And if I choose my targets with care, I do so with the king's blessing! I live a life rich with beautiful faces, but hearts cannot be plundered as gold can, as their affections must be earned, not won. Seeking them is an adventure all on its own."

Here Propeller Knight sighed wistfully. "Time spent well with a person you care about-- whether for an evening or a lifetime-- is never time wasted. It is good for the mind, body, and soul. And in my experience, it is well worth the pursuit."

Donovan stared at the field outside the mansion.

"How long have you known him?" Propeller asked.

"Three years. We've been an adventuring duo for nearly all of it," Donovan answered stiffly.

"And you could continue to be just that," Propeller suggested. "Business partners. Friends. Perhaps roommates, if the situation demands it. But when he comes home in need of comfort, do you want to offer a word of reassurance, or a loving embrace? Do you want to trust him with fair-weather banter, or your deepest hopes and fears? Do you want to watch from afar, or reach out to hold him? His hand in your hands, his arms in your arms, his face next to yours when you wake up in the morning?"

Donovan's face burned bright red. 

"If you want that, then you should accept that you want it," Propeller said gently. "And then, if the time is right, you can give him the chance to decide if he wants it as well."

Donovan's hand shook on the banister. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Propeller stood up with a flourish. "You really are quite charming, Donovan," he said playfully. "If your attentions were not so obviously directed elsewhere, I might pursue you myself. Do let me know if you change your mind, though!"

Then Propeller Knight flitted back into the ballroom, leaving Donovan by himself to pick up the pieces of… whatever that had been.

In spite of himself, he indulged the train of thought a little longer. He thought of Luan when he first met him, short and thin and brilliant. His eyes perpetually glinted with mischief, like there was something he knew that nobody else did. 

Donovan thought of him as they started adventuring properly, of Luan extending a hand to help him up to a difficult spot, of Luan's grin when they found treasure, of Luan skillfully bartering with merchants.

Donovan thought of him telling tales to an adoring crowd at the inn, of Luan's casual smile as he sat by the fire, his determined look as he sat cross-legged on his bed planning a heist. Donovan thought of Luan in that new suit of his, of his striking figure and infectious confidence.

As he thought about it, a sinking realization made his heart turn over in his chest. He had feelings for Luan. He wanted more to their relationship. He couldn't fight it or ignore it anymore. 

All he could do was sit and stew in his newfound vulnerability as the truth washed over him. 

A cold, piercing wind blew over the patio, and the sensation raced up Donovan's arms like electricity through a live wire. He knew how this would end. Luan was in love with Reina. There could be no parting between them without heartbreak, and Donovan didn't want that for Luan. But he also didn't want it for himself either. The two could not coexist.

Donovan slammed his hand against the banister in frustration. He had feelings for Luan-- god help him, he did. But be that as it may, his feelings were incompatible with reality. Wanting something didn't mean he could have it, and he knew he couldn't have this.

\--- 

"Donovan? There you are!" a voice called from behind him. Donovan turned around.

Luan smiled and waved to him from the doorway. Reina stood next to him, holding his hand. Donovan now understood why seeing that stung so much. 

"We thought we lost you," Luan laughed. 

"I needed a breather," Donovan replied. That was the truth, wasn't it?

"Of course. It can be a bit much in there," Reina said understandingly. "When things get to be too much, my favorite thing to do is stand by the buffet table and stuff my face until I feel better."

Donovan laughed at that. God, why couldn't he just hate her? It would be so much easier if he hated her. Things had been perfect between him and Luan before they met her. But he couldn't blame her for seeing the same things in Luan that he did, now could he?

"We were going to start a game of cards outside the ballroom," Luan continued. "I know you like games. Figured I could tempt you out of hiding with them."

Donovan chuckled. "Fine, you got me. I'll come play a hand or two."

And he did. He had a much easier time in the small room with a small group of people, and it served as a suitable distraction from Propeller Knight's earlier bombshell. He found himself joining in the conversation and even having fun.

They all played hand after hand, sharing an even mix of wins, and Donovan and Luan met some new people they got along with. Hadn't that been the goal?

The evening took a turn when a new guest arrived.

"Wow, really?" Reina said in surprise as the front door opened down the hall, admitting a new face. "Fashionably late, I suppose."

"Announcing Cearney Seatlan of Seatlan Estates!"

Luan's eyes turned to dinner plates.

"I'll be right back," he said nervously as he bolted for the door.

Reina frowned. "What's gotten into him?" 

"I'll go see," Donovan said with a sigh as he stood up.

Donovan caught a glimpse of Luan running into a dark hallway and hiding behind a suit of armor.

"Luan, are you--" Donovan started.

"Shh!" Luan whispered wildly. "Please, not so loud."

Donovan approached quietly. "What's going on," he whispered.

"That's my brother. From the old days. He went with my uncle to the Armor Outpost after my parents died. I can't be here," Luan whispered seriously.

Donovan frowned in concern. "Why not?"

"Because he'll tell my uncle," Luan whispered frantically. "They'll take me away. And Reina doesn't know any of this."

Donovan blinked.

"I can't help with Reina," he whispered evenly, "but you're an adult now. Your uncle can't make you do anything you don't want to." Donovan reached instinctively for his sword to drive the point home, but then he remembered it was back at the Hedgehogs'. He cursed inwardly.

"Please," Luan whispered desperately. "Just trust me. Help me get away."

Donovan sighed. "Fine. But afterwards, I want to know what's going on."

Luan nodded. "I'll tell you. I promise."

Donovan nodded back. "Wait by the carriage. Act sick. I'll do what I can."

Donovan hurried back to the card room.

Cearney was tall and thin like Luan and had the same dark eyes, but his hair was a lighter brown compared to Luan's dark, almost steely blue hair. Cearney's eyes searched the room like he was on the hunt for something, and Donovan immediately felt ill at ease around him.

Donovan recognized caution in Reina's body language as she suspiciously addressed this newcomer. Although she didn't know the whole truth, she too seemed to sense that Cearney was dangerous in some way.

Donovan's entrance interrupted the conversation, and everyone turned to look at him.

"Reina, can I talk to you for a moment?" he said quickly. He could say Luan was sick out in the hall, and they'd get away safely…

But Reina didn't know the plan, so she didn't respond correctly.

"Sure thing. Is Luan okay?" she asked.

Cearney's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, did you just say Luan? As in Luan Seatlan?"

"No, Luan Placentaur," Donovan said quickly, making up a surname on the spot. "He's my brother, and he's feeling ill, so we need to go to him."

Reina frowned. She knew Donovan was lying through his teeth, but perhaps she guessed from his steely gaze that she ought not call him out on it in front of Cearney.

Donovan steadied his resolve, hoping that Cearney would buy it.

"Funny coincidence," Cearney said with a smile. "Not a lot of Luans in these parts. Well, if he needs help, I'll come with you and offer whatever assistance you need."

"No, this is a sensitive matter," Reina said sternly, playing along. "This isn't your brother, and he deserves privacy right now. Lisa and I can accompany our friend."

Lisa blinked in confusion before nodding along.

Cearney narrowed his eyes. "Well, if you ever meet my brother, be careful around him. He's been on the run for three years. He's a violent criminal wanted for the deaths of our parents."

Reina flinched like she'd been slapped, her eyes wide. 

Donovan clenched his jaw. He knew Luan wouldn't do that, but … he still had some explaining to do.

"Come on," Donovan said brusquely, gesturing for Reina and Lisa to follow. They left Cearney in the room with the card players.

None of them saw Cearney leave to follow them several seconds later.

\---

"So what's going on, exactly?" Lisa asked indignantly.

"Old Seatlan family drama," Donovan replied as he hurried down the halls as quickly as Reina's high heels would allow.

"Murder accusations are an auto-fail of the best friend test," she said with a frown to Reina.

"That's absurd," Reina said with a raised eyebrow. "The accusations are completely out of character for Luan. He would never do such a thing. Donovan, do you disagree?"

"He didn't do it," Donovan said confidently. "The idea goes against everything I know about him. But he is hiding something, and it's time he told us what."

Reina sighed in frustration as she stopped in the hall. "Curse these blasted things," she muttered as she removed her high heels. "Come on!" 

Then she bolted down the hall at top speed, with Donovan and Lisa close behind.

\---

They eventually found Luan outside the stables.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said with relief as the party approached. "Please, let's leave as quickly as possible."

"Not until you explain why Cearney accused you of murder," Lisa said pointedly.

Luan frowned in surprise. "I… don't understand."

"Please start at the beginning," Donovan requested. 

Luan chuckled sadly. "There isn't much to say. My father's family is rich in both money and land. My uncle on my mother's side envied both. I never liked him, and my mother warned me and my brothers to be careful around him, but he bought my brothers' affections with outlandish gifts, so her warnings fell on deaf ears."

"And the murder?" Lisa reminded him.

"My parents died a few years back," Luan continued numbly. "In light of that, my brothers moved to the Armor Outpost to be with my uncle, but I couldn't bring myself to go with them. I just couldn't. And now it seems my uncle has blamed my parents' deaths on me."

"How did they die?" Donovan asked seriously.

Luan's eyes turned glassy in that way they always seemed to whenever he thought about his old life too much. "I… can't remember," he said numbly. 

"That's not good enough," Lisa said sternly. "And if you want me to get you out of here, you need to remember."

Luan went silent as he blinked distantly, shaking his head slowly. This wasn't like him, Donovan knew. Something was wrong.

Then they all heard footsteps from around the corner-- in the direction of the mansion. Donovan took off his restrictive red waistcoat, tied it around his waist, and grabbed a nearby pitchfork. It was a poor substitute for his sword, but it would have to do.

Cearney turned the corner to face the group. He locked eyes with Luan. The jig was up.

"Luan! You've gotten taller," he said with a discomforting smile. "Long time no see."

Luan's eyes turned wide and hollow as he shakily stepped back.

"Come now, it's been years. We've missed you. Is that any way to greet family?" Cearney said as he stepped forward, smiling dangerously.

"Not another step," Donovan warned, brandishing the pitchfork.

Cearney laughed. "Found yourself some new servants, eh, Luan?" 

Donovan inhaled sharply, his hands trembling with rage as they gripped the pitchfork. It took every ounce of restraint in his body to hold him back from hurting this man.

"I beg your pardon?" Reina said indignantly as she folded her arms. "Unlike you, Luan doesn't have to pay people to put up with his presence."

"You shut your mouth," Cearney said in a low voice. "Luan is coming with me. Stand aside if you know what's good for you."

"No, that's not happening," Reina decided. "We'll be on our way now, if you'll excuse us…"

Cearney lunged towards Luan, but Donovan grabbed each end of the pitchfork's handle and blocked his approach with the center. Cearney shouted and started swinging his fists, but Donovan deflected every blow.

Cearney reared back for a stronger blow, but before he could strike, there was a hissing noise as the air filled with smoke. He cursed in confusion. Donovan found himself pulled towards the carriage by an unknown force. 

"I think that's quite enough of that," Reina said as she pulled him fully into the carriage and shut the door. Lisa's voice called out in the smoke and the carriage took off, leaving their assailant in the dust.

When the smoke cleared, all four of them were safe in the carriage as it rolled away. Reina discarded the shell of a used smoke bomb, satisfied with its performance.

The carriage was silent for a long moment.

"So who all had fun at the party?" Lisa asked the group cheerfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody is surprised by this revelation lol  
> Also wtf Luan, way to abandon your bro at a party where he doesn't know anyone. No wonder donovan's salty  
> Also yay plot!


	9. Family Business

Donovan was worried about Luan. 

Through almost the entire ride home, Luan stared emptily out the window, refusing any and all conversation. Even Reina's gestures of affection went ignored.

"Does he… often get like that?" Lisa wondered.

Donovan shook his head. 

"This uncle of his seems like a real piece of work," Reina remarked. "And Cearney didn't fall far from the tree."

"I'll say," Lisa said disdainfully.

Reina looked worriedly over at Luan again and grabbed his hand, pressing it close in her own. 

Finally, Luan spoke. 

"I'm sorry to get you dragged into this mess," he said distantly.

"Don't be! We're here to help," Reina reassured him. "Everyone has family nonsense sometimes. It happens. Sure, the murder accusations are a bit extreme, but that's not your fault."

Luan nodded along, but his eyes didn't seem to agree.

"Why does your uncle hate you so much?" Donovan asked bluntly.

Luan shrugged. "I… didn't fall into line like my brothers did, I suppose."

Reina pursed her lips and folded her arms. "He can't control the Estates if you're around. You're a threat to his power."

Luan chuckled bitterly. "That's not true. I'm the youngest of seven brothers. I was never going to inherit the Estates anyhow."

Here Luan turned to stare out the carriage window again, his hands trembling. Donovan had never seen Luan quite this shaken before.

"What's the safest place we can take you both?" Lisa asked, changing the subject.

"The hideout in the Lich Yard," Donovan answered.

"Alright, let's do that."

\---

Back at the hideout, Donovan expected Luan to turn in for the night. But instead he sat down at their mismatched dining set and leaned back with a sigh.

"Did you at least have a good time?" Luan asked Donovan.

Donovan considered. "Apart from the unpleasantness at the end, I suppose so," he answered.

"I saw you walk out with that green fellow with the propeller blades," Luan said, the corner of his lips twitching towards a grin. "Was he good company?"

The words were harmless enough, but Donovan found his face growing warm regardless. "Nothing happened," he clarified quickly. "We just talked. And … he was nice."

Luan nodded, satisfied with the answer, and sighed.

"Donovan, my uncle haunts me like a ghost," he admitted quietly. "Day and night, I am cursed by his memory. I can't be free of him."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Donovan asked seriously.

"I don't think you can," Luan said in distress. "He or my brothers could be anywhere. And this life I've built could come crumbling down any second. Who would believe my claims of innocence over the word of an influential nobleman?"

Luan sunk his head into his hand. Donovan felt a surprising urge to offer him a comforting hug, but he settled for a comforting pat on the shoulder instead.

"We've made it this far, and I won't lose you to your idiot family," Donovan said seriously. "I'll fight all of them myself if I have to."

\---

Donovan woke early the next morning. Luan had tossed and turned in his hammock for most of the night, but now he lay peacefully asleep, and Donovan wanted him to stay that way.

He quietly climbed the ladder out of the hideout and exited to the street through a crack in the wall. Although the clouds over the Lich Yard blocked out the horizon as usual, their light shade of gray told Donovan that it was early mid-morning.

His own mind felt cluttered with thoughts of Luan--both with worries about his safety and worries about his own conversation with Propeller, which refused to exit his mind despite his best efforts. Donovan knew he wanted what was best for Luan, but now more than ever, he wasn't sure what that was.

"Donovan?" a voice called from down the alleyway.

Donovan turned his head. To his surprise, there stood Reina. She no longer wore her green ballgown, but rather a buckwheat-colored skirt and leggings with a thick brown coat. More appropriate for the horse ride she must have taken to get here, Donovan thought. She carried a bundle of clothing and weapons, which Donovan realized had been left at her residence overnight. 

"Thank you for these," he said as he accepted the bundle from her.

"How is he?" Reina asked fervently.

"He's asleep right now after a fitful night," Donovan told her. "Best to leave him be."

Reina nodded disappointedly.

"I wish there were something more I could do," Reina said with a sigh. "I'd march right into his uncle's house with a pile of explosives if I thought it would help."

Donovan raised an eyebrow.

"You don't… think it might, do you?" Reina asked conspiratorially. The alleyway was empty of passerby, but she checked her surroundings anyway.

"Luan would stop us," Donovan pointed out.

"Yes, yes, but regardless, would it help?" Reina asked earnestly.

Donovan thought for a moment. "Let's say we did intervene. What could we do to help?"

Reina contemplated. "First, is the town guard looking for him?"

"No," Donovan said confidently. "He and I just went to the Armor Outpost a few days ago. We encountered no wanted posters or unwanted attention."

"Then that means the claims are baseless," Reina speculated. "If they had merit to them, the town guard would have mobilized."

"So you think the uncle is deliberately spreading false claims, then," Donovan said.

"Well, he's not spreading truthful ones!" Reina laughed. "But this makes our job easier. How do you stop a corrupt nobleman from slandering his nephew?"

Donovan's eyes crinkled in a smirk. "A show of force?"

Reina wrinkled her nose. "You have a one-track mind, Donovan. Don't forget, this is a nobleman's game, so we can use a nobleman's strategy. Say, blackmail?"

"Sabotage the wine fields?"

"Now you're talking," Reina said with a grin.

"Can alchemy create a truth serum?" Donovan asked.

"That would be useful, but sadly, no," Reina answered. "Do you think we could come up with a plan on the day-long horse ride over there?"

"Probably," Donovan replied.

"And do you think Luan would understand if we ask forgiveness rather than permission?"

"If we're successful, sure, probably."

\---

Luan woke up later that afternoon.

It didn't take long for him to notice that Donovan wasn't in his hammock-- or anywhere else in the hideout. A small note, scrawled in Donovan's atrocious chickenscratch handwriting, waited on Luan's bedside table:

_Luan,_

_Reina and I have matters to attend to and a nobleman to knock some sense into. We will be back in a few days. Take care until then._

_Donovan_

Luan stared at the message in disbelief for several seconds.

"I'm going to kill him," he decided with a deep sigh.

\---

"It's much faster traveling by horseback, I must admit," Donovan said as they rode towards the Armor Outpost. "I'm used to walking everywhere I go."

"That sounds exhausting!" Reina laughed. "I can barely bring myself to walk down the street to get groceries. I try to make my brothers do it."

Donovan snickered. "It's all about what you're used to, I suppose. When do we need to return the horses to the renter?"

"Renter?" Reina asked curiously. "These are from my family farm. Donovan, meet Sable and Tilly."

Donovan cautiously patted the side of Tilly's neck below him.

"My brothers and I each got to name one," Reina continued. "I named Sable, Farmie named Tilly…"

"And Hedge Pupil?"

"He named his horse Potassium Nitrate."

Donovan snorted with laughter.

"The funniest part is that the common name for potassium nitrate is saltpeter," Reina said as an aside. "Peter would have been a perfectly fine name for a horse. But nooooo…" She waved her hand disdainfully.

"I suppose the effect would have been lost," Donovan said with a chuckle. 

"And then there's Sunny, which is short for 'sunglasses.' My brother Edge named her, but I don't think you've met him yet," Reina continued. "There's also Altius, named by my brother Ledge, who moved out a while back."

"I admire your attempts to turn your brothers' horse names into something acceptable," Donovan commended.

"I try! But there's no saving Potassium Nitrate," Reina laughed. "I do call her Tassie when Pupil isn't around to hear, though."

"Very nice," Donovan laughed.

Reina reached into her pack and pulled out some jerky. "Do you want some?"

Donovan shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."

"I guess you wouldn't be able to eat it without dislodging your scarf," Reina said with a shrug as she took a bite. "And then I'd know your terrible secret-- that you're actually three divedrakes in a trenchcoat."

"Alright, you caught me," Donovan said with a snicker. "You just can't tell Luan."

"Luan hasn't seen you with it off?" Reina asked curiously.

"Never," Donovan answered.

"I admit, I'm very curious why it's so important to you," Reina laughed. "But I'm sure you have your reasons."

"Well, you were almost right with the divedrakes," Donovan replied in a deadpan tone. "But there are four, not three."

Reina wrinkled her nose and playfully shoved him in the shoulder.

"Fine, keep your secrets," she said with a gentle flip of the reins, sending her horse galloping forward.

\---

Eventually they stopped for the evening. Reina took care of tying up the horses and unloading the hay she'd brought. The rocky hills blocked much of the wind chill, and when Donovan got a campfire going, the temperature was almost comfortable.

To him, at least. Reina shivered under her blanket and drew closer to the fire. "I don't know how you do this all the time," she laughed. "The ground is hard and cold, and I admit it, I'd rather be home in bed or in an inn."

"It's not so bad during the summer," Donovan said with a shrug. "It's a shame Luan's good-for-nothing brother couldn't have shown up then."

"I'll say!" Reina agreed indignantly. "He can pay my chiropractor bills when we arrive."

Donovan just laughed in response.

"Can I tell you something funny?" Reina asked suddenly. "Luan tells me that you always tell campfire stories whenever you're out on the road. I think you'll find this one funny."

"By all means," Donovan shrugged.

"That night back at the bar when we first met, I only came to yours and Luan's table because I was interested in *you*!" Reina laughed. "That serious look in your eye, your cloak and dagger, the way you mysteriously kept your face covered even at the bar, of all places. I was curious what your deal was."

Donovan laughed along like he was learning this for the first time. The irony of it all...

"Of course, Luan tells me you aren't really interested in women in the first place, so in a sense I was wasting my time," Reina remembered with a fond laugh. "But on the other hand, it led to me meeting him, and I'll always be grateful for that."

The two sat in silence for a moment.

"If the two of you are happy together, that's all that matters," Donovan said after a moment. "But if you break his heart, you'll answer to me."

Reina raised her eyebrows. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that," she said with a wave of her hand. "I've dated enough men to know a keeper when I see one." 

Here she trailed off for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and uncharacteristically sincere. "He's… sweet, and genuine in a way most people aren't. There are no games with him, no obnoxious egos to get in the way. Just… kindness and consideration."

"He has a big heart," Donovan agreed. "Once when we were just starting out as adventurers, we passed a mother and child on the street. The child was crying because it was hungry. Luan talked me into pickpocketing enough money to buy them some bread. Here we could barely keep ourselves fed, and his first thought was for someone else! It's just the kind of person he is."

"I've never known a nobleman like him," Reina agreed. "No wonder he left that world. He had too much of a soul to stay."

"Indeed," Donovan chuckled before sighing. "I hope we can fix this. He deserves better."

"We'll make sure he gets it," Reina said with a smile.

\---

After a chilly night's sleep, the two woke early the next morning and reached the Outpost by mid day.

"Wow! I haven't been to the Outpost in years," Reina said as she took in the scenery.

"It hasn't changed in that time, I assure you," Donovan joked. His travels with Luan brought him through the area often enough, and it had stayed the same sleepy little town through all of it. The decorations from the winter tournament were long since gone, leaving the people of the town to their boring daily activities.

Reina dropped the horses off at the local stable along with sufficient payment. They also secured lodging at a nearby inn-- two small rooms side by side.

"I'm realizing we don't have a good way to track this evil uncle," she said with a frown as they exited. "Surely someone in town must know something, right?"

Donovan nodded. "There's a tavern just down the street from here, if you want to ask around."

"It's a start!" Reina said with a shrug.

A staircase led from the main road into the basement of one of the buildings. Donovan and Reina walked down and into the tavern. 

It wasn't a grand location. There was a bar with a few barstools, a billiards table, and some tables and chairs set up in the corner. A few regulars played cards in the corner while they drank, but it was too early in the afternoon for the place to be busy yet.

The elderly bartender snickered when the two walked in. "Can I get the lovely couple any drinks?" he asked.

Donovan and Reina stepped away from each other, protesting equally that they weren't a couple.

"Alright, alright," the bartender said with a raised eyebrow. "Still, we got some lovely home brews, if you're interested."

Donovan shook his head.

"Actually," Reina said as she put her elbows on the bar, "I'm new to the area, and I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. It's to settle a bet." She stared at the bartender with big puppy dog eyes.

The bartender sighed. "Go on, then," he said as he wiped some glasses with a dishrag.

"Well, you're a bartender. I'm sure you've heard of Seatlan Estates wine, right?" Reina wheedled.

The bartender chuckled. "Yeah, same as I've heard of this thing called beer. What of it?"

"Well, my cousin started dating someone," Reina said conversationally as she lied through her teeth. "She started seeing this guy, and he told her that he's the heir to the Seatlan Estates fortune or something. I told her that was absurd because the Seatlan Estates are based in the Village out West, so of course they don't live here in the Outpost, right?"

The bartender laughed. "Oh, they live here in the Outpost, alright. I've seen all six of the sons in here at one point or another. They're lousy tippers for how rich they are."

Reina laughed along heartily.

"Your cousin isn't seeing Niall, is she?" The bartender said uneasily. "That one doesn't treat his girlfriends right."

"I'm not sure which one it was," Reina said, pursing her lips like she was deep in thought. "I'll be sure to ask her. Thanks for the warning."

"'S no problem," the bartender shrugged. "Those spoiled brats deserve all the comeuppance they can get, if you ask me."

Donovan ordered some lunch from the bar before he left. It seemed a sensible way to thank the bartender for his help. And he made sure to tip heartily.

\---

Reina worked similar magic on a few other people throughout town, and they came away with a pile of amusing Seatlan family anecdotes and a general idea of the neighborhood where the family mansion was.

Where the Village had a small neighborhood of well-off plantation owners, the Armor Outpost had several streets full of them. Mansions lined the streets like a row of pristine wine glasses, their yards filled with elaborate, snow-covered water fountains and trellises. Donovan guessed that many of these must be vacation homes of the rich plantation owners over in the Village. Others were likely home to rich merchants along with their families and staff.

The first obstacle Reina and Donovan ran into was the gate that surrounded the community. It had two mean-looking guards in front and no obvious way through. Donovan supposed it would ruin the aesthetic of their community if they allowed poor riffraff like him to walk their streets. He and Reina could only stand on and overlooking hilltop nearby and watch the community below.

"Well, this may be a problem," Reina said, folding her arms. "How do you and Luan get into places like this?"

"Climbing rope," Donovan answered.

Reina laughed. "I definitely don't have the upper body strength for that, but good thought! Can I blow up the wall?"

Donovan blinked, unsure if Reina was being serious.

"Uh, no?" he answered slowly. "That's a surefire way to create a racket and get caught."

"Pity," Reina said, tapping her foot in thought. "Of course, maybe we don't need to destroy the gate. If I bomb jump over it…"

"No," Donovan said sharply. "No explosions. I thought that was clear." Never trust an alchemist with a stealth job, he thought bitterly.

Reina's energy deflated almost at once. She folded her arms and kicked at a nearby rock.

"Well, explosions are all I'm good at," she said flatly. "I want to help."

Donovan sighed. "You'll be of no help if you get locked up. Please be reasonable about this."

Reina breathed in like she was going to argue, but after a long moment, she sighed.

"Fine," she relented. "Maybe there's a tree we can climb somewhere."

They surveyed the outer gate wall as the sun fell into dusk, but they didn't have much luck.

"Look," Donovan said after a few hours, "I can go alone over the wall and find a better way in."

Reina sighed. "I suppose we have no other choice. Fine. I'll head back to the inn."

Then she stormed off.

Donovan briefly wondered what she was so upset about, but he quickly turned his mind to the task at hand. 

Of the entire length of the wall, almost all of it separated the community from empty wilderness. Even if one were to get caught and escape, tracking the escaper into the wilderness-- in the snow, no less-- would be child's play.

However, there was one small segment of the wall, perhaps a few hundred feet in length, that nearly bordered the rest of the Armor Outpost. A small strip of wilderness was all that separated the gated community from escape into the nameless masses of people in the town center. Donovan selected this spot for his entrance and approached the wall.

The wall in question was some 10 feet tall with vicious spikes on top; ironically, it was these very spikes that allowed him entrance. He looped his rope into a lasso shape and secured one of the spikes, climbing the knotted rope as quickly as he could.

On the other side of the wall, Donovan found a nobleman's snow-covered back yard. Snow posed a problem, as his footsteps would be easily visible to any who traced his steps in this restricted area. He eyed a garden path that passed by the wall, and after climbing sideways across a few wall spikes, he was able to flip over the wall and land on the path below, his feet falling inside the footsteps left by another.

Donovan walked slowly on his tiptoes, matching the pace of the footsteps in front of him. There were two sets of tracks--one set of heavy work boots likely worn by a large man, and one set of smaller boot prints of indeterminate origin--perhaps from a young woman or teenager. Could these be the tracks of the gardeners doing their rounds in the winter? 

As Donovan approached the side of the house, he heard footsteps. He quietly ducked behind a huge piece of farm equipment and waited. The dark blue of his cloak and scarf blended in with the darkness nicely, allowing him to observe the scene safely.

At the other side of the yard, two figures, which Donovan couldn't see clearly, stood by the wall. One reached towards the other. He heard a young woman's laughter.

"We're going to be caught!" she cried out, laughing as the other figure snatched her around the waist and spun her around playfully. 

"Of course not!" a young man's voice said confidently. "Here, I'll show you."

One-- the young man, Donovan guessed-- pushed aside a statue, revealing something dark in the wall.

"My brothers use it all the time. You can escape here."

The young lady became indignant. "You want to wallow in the mud like some kind of pig? What do you take me for?!"

She stormed off as he called her name, begging her to come back and to quiet down a bit. But the ruckus they were making hadn't gone unnoticed. Donovan noticed candlelight bloom to life in the back window, lighting up the lawn with danger.

"Ugh! I will kill you, Niall!" the young lady whispered in frustration as she ducked under the wall and out of sight. 

Niall, huh? That was the name of one of Luan's brothers. Donovan watched intently, his hand resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword. 

A moment later, just as the young lady disappeared into the night, the back door to the house opened. Donovan ducked back around the wall and into the safe cover of the farm equipment.

"There better not be anyone back here," a middle-aged man shouted sternly. "Because anyone who is will be in a world of hurt in a moment."

Niall flinched and hid behind a bush. In the light pouring over the back yard, Donovan could now see the rich plum hue of this trespasser's waistcoat, and more importantly, the incriminating trail of footsteps leading to him. He was going to be caught. Donovan snickered silently to himself. Amateur.

The middle-aged man whistled, and a dog came bolting past Donovan's hiding place, scaring him almost to death. But the dog ignored him in favor of its master's orders, and Donovan heard it bark at attention.

"Mimi, search," the middle-aged man called out.

Donovan saw the dog bolt into the yard… only to get distracted by its own tail. It barked and chased itself in circles. Unhelpful but adorable behavior.

"No, I said search!" the man shouted, but his words fell on deaf ears. Donovan saw Niall bolt through the yard for the exit.

"You! Seatlan! Your uncle's going to hear about this!" the man shouted. "Mimi! Get him!"

But the dog did nothing, and Niall got away. The man growled and retreated into the house before slamming the door shut.

Donovan crept quietly along the side of the house towards the street. If he could just see which one Niall went in…

But a quiet set of footsteps behind Donovan distracted him. It was the dog. Its tail wagged happily, and it looked like it wanted to play.

Donovan shushed it. The dog didn't know what "get him" meant, but it did understand "shush." It barked quietly. Donovan scratched it on the head and neck. He'd always liked dogs.

As he petted the dog, he saw Niall run down the street towards the center of the community. Niall then ran to the side of one of the mansions and climbed up… what was that, a bedsheet tied to the balcony? Good grief. 

Donovan memorized the house's details. It was about time he rejoined Reina back at the inn. He could tell her what he discovered, and they could formulate a plan from--

A figure walked out onto the street, derailing Donovan's train of thought completely. Was that Reina? Accompanied by a strange man?? What the hell was she doing here?! Donovan blinked to make this apparent delusion go away, but it refused.

At first glance, the man in green looked shockingly like Luan-- he had the same steely-blue hair and dark eyes. But his hair was longer and pulled into a ponytail, and his face was round where Luan's was sharp and angular. He held Reina's hand gentlemanly as he walked her down the street.

As for Reina, she had changed from her riding clothes into a fashionable blue dress. The man with her said something, and she laughed theatrically. 

Donovan sighed deeply. Reina was going to get herself killed at this rate. He owed it to his friendship with Luan to prevent that.

Sure enough, the pair walked in the front door of the mansion that Niall had just snuck into. Donovan checked the streets for passerbys, and when he confirmed they were empty, he bolted after them.

This mansion was a huge brick and wood structure, perhaps four stories tall with towers and parapets springing out in all directions. Donovan wished he could magically go through the walls to follow Reina and the Luan lookalike, but Donovan was merely human, and as such he had to make do with hiding outside.

He sat in the bushes for a few minutes as he tried to think of a plan. The huge trees and privacy hedges would protect him if he tried to climb the walls, but he couldn't be certain that the Seatlan family didn't have hired guards patrolling the area. He also didn't know the layout of the building, nor exactly what Reina was planning. It would be dangerous if he blew her cover. 

Eventually he decided to wait until the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. And he would've done it if he hadn't heard a voice from overhead:

"It's a lovely evening, isn't it?" Reina said loudly, opening the huge balcony doors a few floors up. 

"Bit chilly, don't you think?" A voice replied. It sounded like Luan except slightly lower in pitch, and very drunk.

"Oh, this room's too stuffy anyway!" Reina laughed. "Besides, I couldn't miss out on a view like this!"

Reina poked her head out from a tower room on the fourth floor. She stared out at the scenery, slowly searching it for something. For Donovan, perhaps? He couldn't think of a way of returning her signal without alerting dangerous parties to his position, though.

"You don't want a bit of … privacy?" the drunk voice said zealously. It was clear to Donovan exactly what the speaker wanted privacy for.

"Oh, Darragh, I couldn't possibly! I need to freshen up first," Reina said sweetly. "I'll be right back."

Then the noise of a door opening and shutting burst from the room, and Reina was gone. 

If Reina was nearby, then that changed things. Donovan needed a way to discreetly contact her to strategize. But he couldn't do it with that drunk fool getting in the way. Even so, he began to examine the wall to find a path up. If he heard sounds from any kind of a struggle, he'd be up in a flash to help Reina.

Fortunately, the sound he heard instead was deep, raucous snoring. That was good enough for Donovan. He found the grooves in the brick wall and began to climb.

He'd made it almost halfway up when a bedsheet tumbled from the balcony to his side.

"Thought I'd lend you a hand," Reina whispered. Donovan laughed quietly. A tug on the sheet indicated it was solid, and he used it to speed up his climb.

"Glad to see you, friend," Reina said quietly when he reached the balcony. "I have a lot to tell you."

"Good. I want to hear all of it, starting with what the hell you were thinking," Donovan said in a sharp whisper.

\---

As it turned out, Reina had indeed gone back to the inn like she promised. But she stopped in the tavern to pass some time, and when she heard of a man claiming to be of the Seatlan family, she saw an opportunity and took it. 

She put on airs like she wanted to go back to his place so they could have some fun, and he of course had accepted and escorted her directly into his home. Once there, she offered him a drink that she had spiked with divedrake venom. It would be enough to put him right to sleep for 12 hours, and then he'd wake up with a hangover and that would be that. Since he'd been drinking, nobody would be the wiser.

Donovan nodded, surprised at the forethought and efficacy of the plan. He'd underestimated her.

"So, now we have some time to kill," Reina said with a smile as she sat down on a chest of Darragh's clothing. "He said the household goes to bed at 10:00 PM or so, at which point the house is yours.

"I… I'm impressed," Donovan said after a moment. "You did a great job with this."

Reina beamed. "I told you I could help," she teased.

"Should we still try for blackmail?" Donovan asked.

"Definitely," Reina replied. "Darragh didn't go into specifics, but he said that his uncle is into all sorts of shady stuff. We just need to find something incriminating, and we can make our move. Think you can find something in the winery ledgers?"

Donovan frowned slightly. Luan had walked him through the basics of arithmetic years ago, but he didn't have much skill in accounting, and he definitely didn't trust himself to be able to identify financial fraud on the written page.

"I think that'll have to fall to you," he admitted embarrassedly. "Numbers aren't my strong suit."

"No problem! I'm plenty good at them," Reina replied cheerfully. "Just get me to the ledgers and I'll find what we need."

\---

They waited a few hours until the household went to sleep. Donovan spent that time coaching Reina in some basics of stealth, and then they set out.

Reina had the benefit of plausible deniability, so she walked ahead somewhat conspicuously with a candle. She feigned confusion as she walked, and if anyone asked, she could say she was looking for the washroom. Donovan followed behind from the shadows, hopping quietly from dark corner to dark corner as she moved. 

Eventually the two passed by a library. Bingo. Reina scurried in and shut the door behind her.

She browsed the titles on the shelf, passing by a number of volumes until she reached a specific book and nodded. That was the one.

Then Reina sat down in a comfy looking armchair, set her candle to the side, and started reading.

Donovan waited anxiously while she read. How long could this task take? As she pored through the pages, he got bored and explored the room.

Two walls opposite each other were taken up entirely, floor to ceiling, with books. Old handwritten tomes, new printed ones, and everything in between gathered dust on the ancient shelving. A huge window let in a little moonlight from outside, and an expensive mahogany desk sat in the corner, covered in papers.

The wall that caught Donovan's attention was the fourth one opposite the window. It contained a family portrait of the Seatlans. 

A pale, dark-eyed man with angular features stood in the center next to a tan-skinned woman with a round face. Her eyes glittered mischievously in the picture, reminding Donovan of Luan. Surrounding the presumed parents were seven boys ranging from 5 to 17 in age. Some of them had their dad's chestnut brown hair, while others had their mom's dark, steely blue hair.

Donovan always carried a lantern with him on jobs. He lit it and gently held it up to the painting to get a closer look. There in the corner of the painting was a child, the youngest of the bunch, with Luan's features. Donovan raised his eyebrows.

Young Luan was absolutely tiny as a child, and one of his older brothers held him for the painting. He had his thumb in his mouth and stared into the eyes of the viewer like he had no clue what was happening.

Reina looked up from her book for a moment, and her face lit up with a huge smile as she noticed the painting. Although constrained by silence, she mouthed the words "he's so cute!" and grinned as she went back to her work.

If Donovan could have taken the painting with him, he would have, but he was not properly equipped for a job like that. Instead, his attention wandered to the desk in the corner of the room.

The letters on the table were boring business-related missives. Donovan skimmed through them briefly before deciding that they were of no use. However, a discolored patch of wood on the desk caught his attention. He pressed on a panel of wood and it popped open, revealing a secret locked compartment. 

That caught his interest. He pulled out his lockpicking tools, which he'd upgraded from the junk he'd used as a teenager. He inserted a long, slender instrument into the lock, and after several minutes of tinkering, it popped open. 

Donovan inhaled in anticipation. What could be so valuable as to be worth hiding like this?

Reina looked up from the ledgers in curiosity and walked over.

Donovan rifled through the thin stack of documents as Reina peered over his shoulder. A wrinkled, handwritten letter stuck out from the neatly printed documents next to it, so Donovan started there.

His eyes went wide as he read. Reina gasped.

In fact, the two were so engrossed in what they were reading, they overlooked a middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard as he entered the room.

"Alright, that's enough exploring from you two," he said as he pressed a knife against Donovan's throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A quick google search said the name Luan is simultaneously Celtic/Gaelic, Albanian, and Chinese in origin. I couldn't find any references to Seatlan being a real name, but the surname Seatland is Scottish, so I decided to follow the Gaelic theme with the rest of Luan's family names.
> 
> 2\. Mimi is named after Memmec, aka best dog in Specter of Torment
> 
> 3\. Sorry for the cliffhanger lol


	10. More Family Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have guessed from the ending of the last chapter, this chapter contains threats and depictions of moderate violence.
> 
> Also the ending notes for this chapter contain spoilers lol

Donovan froze.

Reina breathed deeply. "Put the knife down," she said slowly. "I have explosives on me. I'll burn the whole house down with you in it unless you let him go." She pulled a canister of powder from her pocket and brandished it at him to drive the point home.

"No you won't," the man said with a laugh. "You value your own life too much. So you're going to put that down before somebody gets hurt."

He pressed the blunt end of the blade into Donovan's throat. Donovan grunted and his breathing grew forced.

Reina slowly lowered the canister. Donovan noticed her hands shaking as she did it.

"What do you want," Reina said in a low voice.

"Well, you and I are in conflict now," the man said almost conversationally, his blade unwavering. "You trespassed into my home and rifled through my belongings. And now you know something you shouldn't. Either we'll come to an understanding, or I'll kill you both where you stand."

Donovan's hand slowly wandered in the direction of the blade at his hip.

"If you draw your blade, I will kill you now," the man said coolly. He kept a business-like tone to his voice, but under that surface-level layer were undertones of a cold-blooded killer who wouldn't hesitate.

"What kind of understanding do you want?" Reina said carefully.

"I'm not sure yet!" The man said cheerfully. "Convince me that the information you learned won't leave this room, or I'll slaughter you both."

"How sure are you that you CAN kill me?" Reina asked curiously. "I would think you'd have a difficult time doing so."

"You doubt my abilities? Well, we can start with a demonstration right now if you like," the man said with a terrifying glee. He twisted the knife in his hand, and a searing pain tore through the top layer of skin on Donovan's neck. He winced.

Reina's eyes widened. "No, stop!" she cried out. 

"There, now it sounds like you're ready to cooperate. That's a good girl," the man said pleasantly. Reina's eyes filled with fury, but she had the presence of mind to still her tongue.

"Now, let's say one or both of you suddenly became... unable to speak," the man continued with the casualness one might use to order dinner. "That would make it difficult to share what you learned, wouldn't it? Or would you prefer an injury that paralyzed you from the neck down? Then again, you haven't been terribly cooperative. Perhaps both would be necessary."

Donovan's heart pounded as adrenaline rushed through him. There had to be a way out of this. If he could just think…

If he could just reach his sword, he could end this man if he had to. That knife was no match for his own blade... except when it was positioned against his throat. He was entirely at the mercy of this deranged man.

The only thing he could think to do was to reach up and physically grab his captor's wrist to stop him slicing Donovan's throat. But he'd only have one chance at that, and if he failed or was too slow, he would die. But to do nothing would guarantee either certain death or mortal injury…

Suddenly, Donovan heard the gentle scrape of a sword being unsheathed.

"Drop the knife, uncle," Luan said from behind Donovan.

Reina's jaw dropped in surprise. Donovan felt the knife slowly lower from his neck. He'd never been so glad to have Luan by his side than that moment.

"Ahh, the prodigal son returns," the uncle said snidely. "Are you here to apologize?"

"The jig is up," Luan continued. "I know what you did. I watched you do it, all those years ago. You killed my parents in cold blood."

As soon as the knife fully withdrew from his neck, Donovan drew his own blade and swirled around to face Luan's uncle.

"You know that nobody will believe you, my boy," the uncle laughed. "You'll be a laughingstock at best and hanged at worst. Is that really a risk you want to take?"

"I'd wager his chances are better with this," Reina said triumphantly, holding the letter from the desk. 

The uncle snarled and lunged towards her. Luan and Donovan each grabbed a shoulder to restrain him, and Donovan wrenched the wicked blade from the uncle's grasp.

"Let's see…" Reina said as she skimmed the letter theatrically. "Paragraph 3 makes reference to you performing a premeditated murder, with your mother in law as an accomplice. Was it really worth keeping this around to blackmail her?" she taunted.

"You think you've won?" the uncle cackled. "I control your brothers, Luan, and that means l control the estates. In fact…"

Then he shouted at the top of his lungs for Cearney to come down.

Donovan and Reina exchanged a glance. Given their last interaction with Cearney, both felt a pressing need to escape the house as quickly as possible.

But Luan just laughed bitterly. "They don't know the truth, do they? Maybe it's time they found out."

The uncle blinked, looking perturbed.

Cearney ran down the stairs in his nightclothes, wiping the sleepiness from his eyes. "What in blazes--" he said as he saw the scene.

"Do fetch your brothers and help your dear uncle out of this situation, will you?" the uncle asked charmingly from within Donovan and Luan's grasp.

"Don't listen to him!" Luan cried out. "Cearney, he killed mom and dad! You have to believe me."

Cearney frowned in confusion. "Uncle, explain this," he said shortly.

"Luan is making up lies like always," the uncle said, sounding unconcerned. "He's been gone for years and has no idea what he's talking about. Please help me escort him out."

"No," Luan said sharply. "I'm done running. I'm not a child anymore. You have no power over me, and it's time everyone else knew the truth about what you are."

Then Reina began to read aloud.

"My dearest Claudius," she began, "as you have no doubt noticed, my own son Domhnall lacks the political acumen to run the estates, and as such is unfit to inherit them. Although you are the brother of Domhnall's wife and not a Seatlan by blood, I hope to devise a scheme by which the one to lead the estates to greatness will be you rather than him. Please burn this letter after reading…"

As Reina read, all the color drained from Cearney's face.

"It was you," he mumbled. "All this time…"

Behind Cearney, a few more stragglers appeared. Donovan guessed they were more of Luan's brothers.

"Can you quit it with all the racket? I'm trying to sleep."

"Why are people drawing weapons in the house?"

"Wait, is that… Luan?"

Meanwhile, Reina continued reading the letter aloud. As more brothers appeared, the letter grew more incriminating.

"Wait, I can explain," the uncle pleaded to the growing crowd of Seatlan brothers as they approached.

\---

As it turned out, he could not explain.

A lot of things happened in quick succession after that.

Luan's brothers got the town guard involved. Luan gave his version of events, supplemented by the letter Donovan found in the desk. Reina turned over the ledgers she'd been going over, and surprising nobody, there were massive discrepancies indicating widespread fraud on the part of the uncle.

To ensure justice was carried out, Luan also distributed copies of the letter to the local news carriers. If all the land knew about what had happened, then it would be harder for higher powers to bury the story.

Over the next few months, the authorities uncovered massive debts that the uncle had incurred. Settling those debts involved selling the whole winery, throwing all the brothers out on the street. Although they cut ties with their uncle in light of the charges, Donovan also didn't hear of them keeping contact with Luan after that, since they presumably blamed him and his friends for uprooting their comfortable lifestyle.

Nevertheless, with dear uncle Claudius in jail and the corruption rooted out, it would seem justice had been served. 

But Donovan, Luan, and Reina didn't stick around in the Outpost to see all that happen. In fact, they left the very next morning after the incident to return home.

\---

The three set out on horseback to take the long, familiar ride back to the Village. Luan had walked to the Outpost on his own, so he shared Reina's horse on the way back. Donovan rode nearby to the side. Reina had given him a healing tonic that seemed to be doing its job, but his neck still itched from where it had been cut. He recognized now exactly how lucky he was to be alive. 

The group rode in an awkward silence.

"You both know that was insane, right?" Luan scolded. "You both very nearly got yourselves killed. This wasn't any of your business."

"It was," Reina argued. "Your family threatened you, and I take that seriously."

"You should have asked first," Luan said firmly. "You had no right."

Donovan and Reina went silent in chagrin.

Luan continued. "When I saw that note you left, I was sick with worry. I had to pay a witch to tell me where you were. I almost didn't reach you in time. I don't know how else to say it, so I'll say it again: _you could have died._ "

Here Luan sighed. "I didn't know about my uncle's letter," he admitted. "And you did help bring my uncle to justice. I'm grateful for that. But I'm still furious with you both for how irresponsible you were."

Donovan remembered his helplessness as Luan's uncle had held that knife to his throat. Donovan clenched his jaw as shame and indignation washed over him. 

But he swallowed his pride.

"You're right," Donovan said quietly, "and I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Reina added. "It was my idea. I just wanted to help, and I didn't want you to say no."

"Which to be clear, I almost certainly would have. Confronting my uncle is the most terrified I've ever been in my life," Luan admitted quietly.

Donovan was kind of surprised at that. He and Luan had outrun lava flows and fought dragons and ghosts. Surely these were far more terrifying opponents than an old man with a knife.

"But… I couldn't let him take you both, too," Luan said with a sad smile. "You're all I have."

"Aww, Luan," Reina cooed as she turned around on her horse to hug him. "You know I'd do anything for you. And I'm sure Donovan feels the same."

"Of course," Donovan said without hesitation.

"Never again," Luan emphasized. "But… thank you all the same."

\---

Things settled into a sense of normalcy after that.

Donovan and Luan continued adventuring, Reina continued her alchemy training, and they still met up at the bar for drinks after successful heists. Luan spent more time on dates with Reina. The only real difference from before was that Luan officially had nowhere to go back to now. His family had been stripped of their riches and their status. He was a commoner now.

Donovan asked Luan about it once, to see if it bothered him, but Luan just laughed it off. He said he hadn't been a proper nobleman in years, and this just made it official. 

But something bothered Luan. Donovan could see it in his eyes-- the faded sadness he carried with him, the tremble in his hands when he thought Donovan wasn't looking. More and more, Luan got that distant, glassy look to his eyes as he stared out into empty space.

Perhaps the incident with his uncle had left more of a mark on him than Donovan realized. Or perhaps that sadness had always been there, and Donovan now knew how to recognize it for what it was. He couldn't say.

Strange that it was only now that Luan seemed to be getting worse. He'd spent years in danger from both starvation and his family. Now things were stable in both regards, and it was now that Luan became unsteady. 

On the other hand, perhaps Luan hadn't had a moment's rest from vigilance since he ran away from home. Perhaps he was only now secure enough to let the facade drop.

The only times Luan truly seemed like himself were when he was with Reina at the bar. Donovan was jealous of that, although he'd never admit it aloud. He hated that Reina could steady Luan in ways that Donovan couldn't. 

The deeper his jealousy and resentment grew, the deeper he buried them.

\---

A few months passed, and the group found themselves once more at the Juice Bar. Reina and Luan sat at one side of the booth, holding hands under the table. Across from them sat Donovan and Lisa, who was off duty at the time. Those two sat with a healthy distance between them.

While they waited to order, Luan recounted the Seatlan Estates incident for Lisa with only minor embellishments. He gave the tale a new life that Donovan hadn't thought possible. Then again, when Donovan had stood in the study with a knife at his throat, the last thing on his mind had been dramatic tension.

Reina kept her eyes locked onto Luan, hanging onto his every word. Every time Donovan saw her, he became more aware of how strongly her feelings for Luan ran. The two seemed to grow closer by the day, and Donovan had grown accustomed to the pangs of heartache that accompanied the time they all spent together.

He wanted to be happy for them, but he couldn't. He was only human, after all.

Lisa raised her eyebrows and asked a question about Luan's tale. Luan answered genially. Was it Donovan, or had Luan's beard started to fill in better? It looked less patchy and more like a beard should, full-faced and neatly trimmed, in this case to half an inch or so. It looked good on him.

Luan grinned as he told his tale, and Donovan's heart raced for a moment when he saw it. God, he was pathetic-- every bit the lovestruck fool he had teased Luan for being all those months ago. Black Knight would have a field day if he found out.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" the Juice Maid on staff said as she walked by the table. 

Lisa ordered a scotch, Donovan ordered a beer, and Luan ordered a gin and tonic. 

"And a hard lemonade for Reina?" Luan guessed with a goofy grin on his face. She'd ordered it so many times before, after all, and he looked entirely too pleased with himself for remembering.

"Oh, I'm fine," Reina laughed with a shake of her head. "Just water for me, thanks."

"You sure?" Lisa asked between sips of her scotch. "It might be a while before our work schedules line up again. Live a little!"

Reina pursed her lips shyly. "Actually, I'm quitting my job."

Luan's jaw dropped in confusion. "What? I thought you loved your job!"

Reina raised an eyebrow. "I mean, all I do is count inventory for hazardous chemicals. It's nothing special. But I have my reasons." 

Luan frowned slightly, like he knew something was up. Like there was something Reina wasn't telling him.

"It's fine," Reina said emphatically. "Besides, this gives me more time to work on my studies. We just got this new apprentice girl, and she's balancing equations I didn't dare touch until last year! I can't let myself be beat by a kid."

"Fair enough," Luan said with a smile, but his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I mean, if a kid wants to stack wine cases, I say let 'em," Lisa joked. "I'm not so proud that I can't let a little bartending prodigy do my job for me."

"It's not about the job, it's about my pride," Reina laughed. "Luan, how would you feel if a kid robbed, say, Pridemoor Keep?"

Luan raised his eyebrows. "I'd be impressed more than anything," he answered after thinking about it. "Also, if that kid takes risks like that, they won't be in the thieving business for long. I can be a bit of a risktaker, but even I have my limits."

Drink by drink, the group continued their banter well into the evening. But something was definitely up with Reina. Even accounting for the lack of alcohol, she was far more reserved than normal, and while Donovan wouldn't say he knew her well, he knew her well enough to recognize the difference.

As they were about to leave, Reina asked to speak to Luan privately. They stepped into a booth at the bar, and whatever Reina said left Luan pale as a sheet when he walked out.

"What was that about?" Donovan asked.

Luan brusquely waved him off as they said goodbye to Reina and Lisa.

The spring air was just starting to warm up, and small plants sprouted in the snowmelt as they walked home. It would make for a more pleasant walk home than in the dead of winter, although the evening air still had some bite to it.

Once they left town and started down the well-trodden path to the Lich Yard, the crowds of people faded away in the distance, leaving only the distant horizon as an audience. Donovan tried again.

"Well?"

Luan was silent for a long moment as he grappled with his thoughts. 

"Reina's pregnant," he said strangely.

Donovan stopped walking. "You can't be serious," he said disbelievingly. 

But the look in Luan's eye told him that he very much was.

"Oh god," Donovan said numbly. 

Luan looked like the full weight of that information hadn't yet settled in. "I'm going to be a father," he said quietly.

"I can hardly imagine it," Donovan said disdainfully. And it was true. He and Luan could barely take care of themselves. How would Luan take care of an entire other human being? 

"It doesn't feel real," Luan admitted. "But Reina wouldn't lie about something like that, right? It can't be a mistake?"

"I don't think she'd lie about something like that," Donovan said seriously. "And I don't think it's a mistake. Women have ways of knowing that kind of thing, right?"

Luan looked away embarrassedly. "I assume so?" he finally stammered out.

Donovan shrugged wildly. He was entirely out of his depth here.

The two were silent for a moment.

"How is this going to affect our adventuring?" Donovan asked sharply. "How can we go on jobs when you have a tiny screaming… thing… waiting for you at home?"

"Well, Reina could help, right?" Luan answered. "I watch it when she's at work, she watches it when I work… Maybe you could babysit sometimes?"

Donovan's eyes went wide. He wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with the little cretin, let alone what he'd do with it if he did.

"I'll figure it out," Luan sighed. "It seems I have little choice."

\---

They walked the rest of the way in near-total silence.

Donovan didn't know what to think. This blindsided him. And the more he thought about it, the worse he felt about it. He felt angry at Luan for being irresponsible, at Reina for entering their lives, and at the unborn child for existing. He didn't care how rational or fair it was to feel that way. 

Donovan had never asked for any of this. But short of parting ways with Luan, which was simply not going to happen, Donovan had no recourse. Luan's consequences were his consequences. He'd simply have to suffer them.

His resentment simmered quietly as they got home to the hideout. As Donovan climbed down the ladder, it finally bubbled over, and he sighed sharply.

"Look, I know it's not ideal," Luan sighed from the hideout floor. "Things are going to be different moving forward, but--"

"How could you be so stupid," Donovan muttered, interrupting him mid-sentence.

"I beg your pardon?" Luan replied quietly.

"How could you get yourself into this situation?!" Donovan shouted. 

Luan glared back at him, but Donovan kept right on going. "You got someone pregnant. You knew what could happen, and did it anyway. Now there are real consequences for both of us because of your actions."

"I don't expect you to understand," Luan said angrily, a wounded look on his face. "Not everyone's like you. Some of us care about other human beings."

Donovan's face turned stony and unreadable. He clenched the rungs of the ladder with a death grip as he fought an internal war against his own fury. Eventually, reason won out, and he stormed up the ladder and towards the exit of the catacombs to cool off.

\---

Donovan woke the next morning to a beam of light casting into the entrance to the catacombs. He must have dozed off in the entrance hallway, and now his shoulders ached from a night pressed against the cold red stone. 

For a moment, he dared to hope that the events of the last night had been a twisted dream, but the delusion didn't last long. After a long moment, he sighed and brought himself back into the hideout.

Luan was awake already. Donovan wondered if he'd slept at all. Neither of them met the other's eyes.

Donovan's stomach grumbled, so he went to the pantry. They had an old loaf of bread, which would be fine for a breakfast. He cut himself a slice.

"Can you slice one for me as well?" came Luan's soft voice.

Donovan silently obliged. 

The two were silent as Donovan picked at his bread. After a long moment, Luan came to join him at the table.

"I ought to apologize," Luan mumbled. "I spoke out of turn. My words were uncalled for."

"I'm sorry I lashed out at you," Donovan replied, though he couldn't meet Luan's eyes. "And... you're wrong about me. I do care about others. Like you. You're my friend and partner in crime, and I don't… want anything to change that."

Luan smiled warmly, and Donovan's heart melted a bit. God damn it.

"Nothing will change that," Luan reassured him. "Kid or not, I'll be the same reckless adventurer at heart. If you stick around, I'll prove it to you."

"If I stick around?" Donovan laughed. "Don't worry. You're not getting rid of me that easily. We'll figure this out."

They ate their breakfast quietly for a few minutes. Then, after a moment, Donovan curiously asked, "What all do babies need, anyway?" 

"I have no idea," Luan said tiredly.

"Well, you made one."

"Yeah, well, I didn't get an instruction manual for doing it," Luan remarked with a tired half-smile. 

A dozen dirty joke responses passed Donovan's mind, but he decided to spare Luan this time.

"Well, uh, I'm sure we could put a cradle up in the hideout," Donovan suggested awkwardly. "And toys I guess? We'll need the money for it."

Luan looked faint, like his head was swimming with thoughts about his future.

"I'm not ready," Luan admitted in defeat. "I guess I always wanted kids someday, but I'm not ready for them now."

"If it makes you feel better," Donovan replied, "I'm not sure anyone ever is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, in terms of plot twists that everybody saw coming, this one probably takes the cake! But we all knew it had to happen eventually lol
> 
> I have no clue if contraception exists in Shovel Knight world. If it does, it probably wasn't super reliable because this takes place in pseudo-medieval times. These things happen. Remember to always use protection!


	11. Repercussions and Responsibility

The two were startled from their discussion by the sound of someone familiar clambering down the ladder into the hideout.

"Reina?!" Luan cried out. "What are you doing here? Is it safe for you to be doing that?"

"It's fine," Reina said dismissively as she sat on the platform at the bottom of the ladder, sounding slightly out of breath. "And I'm here because we have to talk about stuff. You know, regarding the darling little angel on its way."

Luan nodded with a deep sigh. "Well, I can come join you out in the hall, then. We can have some privacy there."

Reina shook her head. "No, Donovan should stay. You two are basically business partners, and this affects you both. Luan, I'm going to be blunt with you for a minute. You and I are going to have a cash flow problem when this kid comes into the world."

Luan frowned. "Why is that? Can't you go back to your job once the child is born?"

Reina shook her head. "My job dealt with hazardous chemicals. I can't be near them while pregnant or breastfeeding."

Luan leaned his arm against the table. "I suppose that's fair," he said with a sigh.

"And I know that income between the two of you can be, shall we say, intermittent," Reina said disdainfully as she rolled her eyes. "So how do you propose we keep this child fed? Do you have a nest egg of any kind? Or any reliable source of income?"

Luan's face turned sheepish. Donovan assumed he was thinking of the expensive clothing they had bought for the party. Surely if Luan had expected this to happen, he would have been more judicious in his spending. But that was water under the bridge now.

Donovan sighed sharply. "That's not how this works," he snapped. "Opportunities arise when they arise."

"Well, that's not good enough," Reina replied. "This kid's going to need food, clothing, toys, diapers, and a bunch of other stuff. What's your plan for that?"

Luan sighed. "There isn't one. You just told me this yesterday. Give me some time."

"Ok, well, consider this your cue to get your act together," Reina said as she folded her arms. "The next thing is I'm not going to allow the kid to be raised in a sewer, so you're going to need to move to the Village."

Donovan sputtered. "I beg your pardon?"

Reina shrugged. "Well, I guess there's nothing saying you have to come, Donovan. But Luan, you can't live the rest of your life in this dingy place when you have a child. It's time to grow up and get a real place to live."

Donovan's face grew warm. Now he was offended. "This _is_ a place to live. I've lived here for years!"

Reina glared at him. "Donovan, your view on life is really stilted by… whatever you've got going on here. I'm not really sure what that is. I can't stop YOU from living as a thief on the fringes of society, but I sure can stop my kid from growing up thinking that's normal."

"We can't hide it from the kid forever," Luan sighed. "This is what I do for a living. I'm not about to change it now."

"And what about next time you two hit a dry spell?" Reina accused. "What about next time you go two weeks without a job, living off stale bread crusts? What about when the kid's old enough that you have to explain what stealing is and why it's wrong? This. Isn't. Sustainable."

"What would you know about sustainable?" Donovan shot back. "We've been doing this for a long time, since well before we met you. We've gotten along fine."

"No, you haven't!" Reina cried out, throwing her hands in the air exasperatedly. "You live from one meal to the next in-- and I cannot stress this enough-- a disgusting underground crypt. Is this really how you want to live for the rest of your lives?"

Donovan wanted to shout back that he'd be fine with that, but Luan seemed to be having second thoughts. He sighed, and Donovan and Reina went quiet.

"I'll think about it, alright?" Luan said tiredly. "This crypt has been my home for years. It's a big decision. Please give me some time."

The group went silent for a moment. Reina pursed her lips, and the expression on her face softened.

"Look, this is all new to me too. I wasn't expecting this, you weren't expecting this, we're all caught off guard here. But… we're just gonna have to roll with some punches to make this work, ok?" she said gently.

Luan nodded. 

Donovan brooded in his seat, his arms folded tightly. "And you're completely sure that you're... with child?" he asked Reina suspiciously. "There's no room for there to be a mistake here?"

Reina blinked a few times. "Uh, yeah. I'm sure."

"How?" Donovan asked, but his face blanched and he immediately regretted asking.

Reina smiled devilishly. "Well, ask a scientist a question, get a scientific answer, right? Maybe it's time for a crash course in biology for the two of you."

Donovan's eyes went wide and he stammered that it wouldn't be necessary, but the wheels of fate were already in motion.

\---

A few hours later, Reina left the hideout satisfied with Donovan and Luan's knowledge of pregnancy. Donovan was mortified and slightly queasy.

"Well, that was… educational," Luan said with a half-hearted smile, his eyes haunted by Reina's informative diagrams.

"This is your fault," Donovan muttered. "I could have gone my whole life without learning… well, most of that, actually."

Luan laughed. "Just be grateful you won't ever have to go through it, I suppose."

Donovan sighed sharply. "I'm changing the subject," he said with irritation. "Reina did bring up a good point about finances. What if we sold the fineries we got from Birder Bluff?"

Luan hesitated, a sad look in his eye. Donovan knew he wouldn't want to do that, but this was more important.

"I plan to never wear mine again unless you force me to," Donovan said honestly. "It's no loss. Really."

Luan considered for a long moment as he leaned back in his chair.

"Maybe we don't have to," he said curiously. "What if we did a big job? Something big enough to cover the little one's food for a lifetime."

Donovan narrowed his eyes. This couldn't be going anywhere good.

"The Iron Whale," Luan said conspiratorially.

"No," Donovan said immediately. 

"Think about it," Luan said with a scheming grin. "We get the payout from that, we retire early to a life of luxury."

"Have you forgotten the Iron Whale's defenses?" Donovan sneered. "We couldn't take even three steps inside without being harpooned. It's a suicide mission."

"Come on," Luan said with a playful jab. "I know you want a piece of that miserly wretch as much as I do."

"That's beside the point," Donovan snapped. "I'd also love to clean the coffers of King Pridemoor and distribute them among the people of the kingdom. But it's not within my power."

Luan stared at the wall for a moment as the gears in his head turned. "What if I came up with a plan to get in and out safely?"

Donovan scoffed. "Pigs will fly before you find a way into the Iron Whale's impregnable hold. But I can't stop you from trying, I suppose."

Luan grinned. "Challenge accepted." Donovan sighed. Pity it was too early in the day for a drink.

\---

Over the next several weeks, Luan set to developing a plan.

They'd just brought in a successful haul from the Plains of Passage a few weeks prior, so they had enough funds to subsist in the meantime, but not forever. Luan started traveling the land on what he called "research trips," and refused to take Donovan and Reina along, annoying both of them in the process.

"Seriously? He's gone again?" Reina said in frustration from outside the hideout a few weeks later.

At Luan's insistence, she had stopped climbing the ladder down into the hideout, but she'd put her foot down on quitting horseback riding for at least a little longer. So she sat astride her horse on the roads of the Lich Yard in the cloudy, midmorning light. Her pregnancy was just barely starting to show under her riding clothes.

"He is still out," Donovan confirmed bitterly. 

"And he still won't tell me what this is about," Reina said in frustration. "It's not like him to keep secrets like this. What hare-brained scheme is he cooking up this time?"

"He won't tell me either," Donovan said with a sigh. "All I know is that it's related to a big job he wants to run before the…well..." Donovan trailed off, embarrassed.

"Before my due date," Reina said, rolling her eyes. "It's not a dirty word. You can say it."

Donovan huffed. "Regardless, I don't know much more than you."

Reina narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she said resignedly. "But I need you to promise me something. Whenever he tells you what this big plan is, I need you to stop him if it's dangerous. Don't you dare let him get himself killed in some idiotic scheme."

"I won't let that happen," Donovan said shortly. 

Reina rubbed the side of her face anxiously. "Thank you," she said tiredly. "I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep riding out here like this. Do you have, say, a mailbox I could use to check in on you both moving forward?"

"Well, the catacombs don't exactly have a mailing address, but I'll figure something out," Donovan offered.

"I'd appreciate it," Reina said with a half-smile. "It'd be a bit easier than you making the trek up to the Village all the time. Speaking of which…" Reina wheedled.

"No, I haven't had the chance to talk about it with him," Donovan said with irritation. Reina refused to let up on convincing them to move up to the Village. It was a bit of a sore subject with Donovan at this point.

"Well, offer still stands," Reina shrugged. "I talked with Farmie and Pupil, and we can move the bedrooms around, no problem. I'm sure they'd be glad for the extra rent money..."

"I said I'll talk it over with him," Donovan growled, losing his patience.

"Well, let me know what you decide," Reina said as she flipped the reins, sending her horse galloping away.

Truth be told, Donovan was strongly against moving, but he suspected Luan would eventually succumb to pressure. Still, Donovan was in no hurry to rush him on this. The longer he could revel in the sweet status quo of his hideout, the better, as far as he was concerned.

Not that the status quo meant anything with Luan gone for weeks on end. Donovan scarcely knew how to fill his time now without planning the next heist with Luan. It was the longest they'd been apart since they first started working together those years back, and Donovan had to admit, he missed him. 

Donovan sighed and made his way to the merchant's corner of the Lich Yard.

It was his daily ritual, his one indulgence in sentiment. Every so often Chester would be there, and every so often, he'd have news on Luan, which he'd share in exchange for coin. It was a poor substitute for seeing him in person, but it was enough to know Luan was still safe.

Donovan searched the sprawl of vendor stalls, weaving through a maze of people selling everything from cuts of meat to antique pottery, but there was no sign of Chester today. 

He sighed sadly. Instead he made his way to the local tavern.

Unlike the spirited atmosphere of the Juice Bar in the Village, this place was a sad, worn-down husk of a building, filled with tired men looking to drink away their sorrows. Donovan hated the place for personal reasons, but he could begrudgingly accept that it had its uses.

The candles on the wall cast weak light and long shadows through the tavern. Donovan took a seat in the corner, listening to the conversations around him.

A few feet away, a wiry, older man sat menacingly at a worn table. Donovan knew who it was immediately from his spiky helmet and blue cape. That was the famed Phantom Striker, protector of the Lich Yard from supernatural phenomenons. 

There was a reason that Luan never saw any ghosts after he moved to the Lich Yard. The Phantom Striker was that reason. He was a rare beacon of honor and skill in the otherwise dismal town, and today, Donovan would wait and see if he had work available.

As it so happened, Phantom Striker was in the middle of a harrowing tale. With over-the-top theatricality, he described a near miss he had against a massive ghost, and his eventual triumph over it with his lightning-wreathed rapier.

Donovan scarcely had any interest in the tale itself, as he'd heard plenty of others like it. But he paid close attention when it ended.

One grizzled patron asked Phantom Striker what his next adventure would be. Phantom Striker laughed darkly.

"A grim pursuit this very evening," he said moodily. "I pursue a twenty-foot tall beast that stalks the land outside this town. The king has paid a bounty to have the creature laid to rest, and offers a reward of gold to any brave souls willing to help."

A grin twitched at Donovan's mouth under his scarf. Today was his lucky day, it would seem.

"How much," he asked without turning around.

\---

The answer was "enough."

After a nap and meal back at the hideout, Donovan met up with the group of defenders on the outskirts of town at sundown.

The Lich Yard didn't have an enormous population, and fewer still were competent fighters. This group of gathered combatants was a particularly shoddy lot, with half a dozen unskilled youths eager to prove themselves, and not much else besides. The most intimidating of the lot was the middle-aged baker woman, who could probably deal more damage with her rolling pin than the six of them put together.

Fortunately, there were a few skilled warriors besides. Phantom Striker would be arriving soon to lead the charge, and Donovan knew his own way around a blade. And to his surprise, they'd been joined by none other than Black Knight.

"Donovan?" Black Knight said in recognition.

"What are you doing here?" Donovan asked in surprise.

"I come to do the king's bidding in laying this foul beast to rest," Black Knight said, hands resting at the hilt of his shovel blade. "I didn't think to expect you here."

"This is my home, and Phantom Striker mentioned a bounty," Donovan said wryly.

Black Knight laughed. "Is your friend coming?"

"He's abroad at the moment," Donovan said sourly. "But hopefully this group will be sufficient for the task at hand."

Black Knight eyed the group of well-meaning commoners warily before laughing.

"I certainly hope so," he said with a hint of sardonic doubt. "But if you could best me in combat, then surely you could take the beast on single-handedly!"

Donovan scoffed. But he had beat Black Knight in the tournament, hadn't he? Maybe he could. Still better not to risk it, though.

"How have your days been since? Is freedom everything you hoped it would be?" Black Knight asked with only a hint of bitterness to his voice.

"I'd say so," Donovan replied coolly. "The perks of knighthood might have made it easier to make ends meet, but it wasn't worth the cost of my autonomy."

Black Knight laughed quietly. "There's truly no changing your mind?"

"Is there any changing yours?" Donovan replied.

"My principles are unwavering," Black Knight said proudly. "Neither you nor anyone else can lead me astray from them."

"Then assume the same of me," Donovan said curtly before changing the subject. "Do you know anything of the beast we are to face?"

Black Knight grew unusually quiet. "There is something amiss in the land," he said seriously. "Dangerous powers are stirring. The undead are waking more often in this region, and foul beasts roam others. I know not what awaits us, but I intend to find out."

Donovan frowned in concern, but before he could ask what Black Knight meant by that, a bolt of lightning struck from the heavens and a cerulean-cloaked figure appeared.

"Thank you all for coming," Phantom Striker said broodingly as he flipped his cape away theatrically. "Tonight we stalk an undead beast of the night. If you wish to turn back, now is your chance."

Upon hearing that they would be facing something undead, two of the youths decided to leave, muttering something to salvage their pride as they stomped off. That left four more, the baker, Donovan, Black Knight, and Phantom Striker.

"Very well," Phantom Striker said. "If you remain, then I assume you are committed to this venture."

The sun dipped below the horizon, sinking the cloudy Eastern sky into charcoal blackness. It was this direction they ventured out in. Donovan lit his lantern; like everywhere else in the Lich Yard region, the ground was plagued with patches of disgusting ectoplasm and toxic substances. Donovan watched his step carefully as he pressed through the thick green brush.

The scattering of outlying Lich Yard houses disappeared completely as they traveled, and it didn't take long until they reached a patch of faded old ruins. 

Nobody ever came out this way, Donovan knew. The people of the town seldom had business here, and the location had a famous reputation for being haunted. Donovan hadn't realized that the rumors were true, but he'd also never bothered to check. 

"Have any of you ever paid attention to these red brick crypts?" Phantom Striker asked the group, gesturing to the scenery around them. "Look how tall these openings are, how cavernous their interiors. Almost like they weren't made for humans at all, you could say."

The baker woman pursed her lips. "If not for humans, then for what, m'lord?" she asked suspiciously, clutching her rolling pin tightly.

"A pertinent question," Phantom Striker said mysteriously. "Perhaps for a giant. These doorways are four times the size of a grown man. Perhaps they were made for beings four times the size of us."

A shiver ran through the group.

"This is no time for ghost stories, Phantom Striker!" Black Knight said in irritation. "Let us find this beast so we may end it and be on our merry way."

"Shh," Phantom Striker hushed them suddenly, and the group went silent. Ahead of them stood an ancient gnarled tree; Phantom Striker faced it, turned around, and walked some ten paces back.

"Stand back," he ordered. Then he brandished his rapier, and a bolt of lightning bore down on a ruined red tower several feet away. The ear-splitting thunder made everyone in the group jump with surprise, Donovan included.

When the bolt cleared, the roof of the building had been torn off, leaving an ominous well descending deep into the earth.

"We'll be going inside, of course," Phantom Striker said offhandedly before leaping into the air. He disappeared into an orb of light that swiftly moved to the top of the tower. One there, he reappeared, let down a length of rope, and gestured for the group to follow as he climbed down into the depths of the tower.

"After you," Black Knight said politely to everyone as they approached, although Donovan suspected Black Knight had been tasked with ensuring the group's safety where possible. It would make sense for him to linger at the end of the group to protect against unexpected threats. 

Donovan sheathed his blade and made the climb into the tower.

The interior of the tower plummeted into a sheer drop-off. Donovan's lantern could only light a few pitiful feet ahead of him as he descended on Phantom Striker's rope, rappelling a few feet at a time. Donovan didn't scare easily, but he'd never much cared for the undead, and this place filled him with unusual dread. 

Eventually, the well dropped into a cavernous room below. Donovan held his lantern out for light as he took notice of his surroundings. A mighty sheet of blue brick covered the wall, only to be interrupted by the mouth of an enormous tunnel into the distance… and several shelves of human skulls, dwarfed by the scale of the room. Donovan scoffed. He couldn't even be scared anymore; he was too appalled by the garish interior design on display.

As more members of his group descended, their own lanterns helped light the room somewhat, but on the other hand, that meant more creepy shadows everywhere. Donovan steeled his nerves. The sooner they found their target, the sooner they could leave.

Eventually Black Knight descended, and with that, they were all there. Phantom Striker stared suspiciously at the far end of the room.

"Prepare yourselves," he said as he drew his blade. He cast a bolt of lightning towards the far end, revealing a massive pile of bones too big to be human. Donovan's eyes widened, and he drew his blade.

A lantern at the side of the bones suddenly lit up with blue flame, and in a moment, the whole floor beneath them caught with flames as well, lighting the room with cyan. The room filled with shouts as the group struggled to put out the blue fire licking at their ankles.

Before them, the pile of bones magically assembled into a twenty-foot tall skeleton, clad in green with gold shin guards. It wielded a crooked, irregular blade and hissed inhumanly.

"Onward to battle!" Phantom Striker cried out as the skeleton leaped towards them.

Two of the youths froze in their tracks as they saw the beast before them, and they retreated to safety in the back of the room. Black Knight charged with his shovel blade, leaping into the air and bludgeoning the creature's rib cage. It roared back at him.

Phantom Striker delivered a frenzy of electric charges, most of which landed successfully on the creature. But a few drifted astray, and Donovan only narrowly dodged one in particular that nearly burned his cloak. He sighed sharply-- Phantom Striker wasn't good at minding his fellow fighters.

The baker woman swung with her rolling pin with a battle cry, but she seemed to have trouble landing blows through the creature's shin guards. She tried a few different ways of jumping to hit it, with varying degrees of success.

Donovan observed this and strategized accordingly. He leaped off the brick wall next to him, rebounding towards the creature. Donovan envisioned a path for his blade before him and dash-slashed through the creature. It howled in pain.

The momentum of Donovan's dash-slash kept him in the air high enough to continue dealing blows. But the skeleton, of course, didn't just sit there and take it. As it hopped throughout the room in an attempt to shake its attackers, Donovan adjusted his trajectory, staying close and slicing ruthlessly.

After several seconds of this, the skeleton collapsed back into a heap of bones, the light in its lantern blowing out in a puff of smoke. Donovan flipped through the air and landed easily on his feet.

"We're not done yet," Phantom Striker growled uneasily, foil at the ready. 

Donovan heard a rumbling behind him, and he quickly hopped away, twirling to view the adversary.

Through some strange magic, the arcane lantern lit once more, reassembling the skeleton with its terrible magic. The baker woman battered its legs as it stood up, yelling fiercely. This woman had the heart of a lion, surely.

The skeleton made to swipe at her with its knife, but Black Knight deflected the blow with his own shovel, grunting from exertion. One of the foolhardy youths raised his sword; Donovan could tell from his posture that it was far too heavy for him. Still, the skeleton was distracted enough for him to land a blow on its thigh. 

"Back!" Phantom Striker shouted as the skeleton leaped into the air. The group followed, but the other mace-wielding youth wasn't fast enough, and the skeleton came crashing down on him. The snap of a bone cracking filled the room, and judging by the youth's howl of pain, it wasn't the skeleton who had been injured.

Black Knight rushed over and attempted to pull the youth from safety, but the weight of the skeleton was too much. Donovan slashed at the skeleton's leg until it retreated enough for Black Knight to rescue him.

"I shouldn't have come," the youth moaned quietly.

"Well, you're here now, and we won't leave you behind," Black Knight said shortly as he carried the youth across his shoulders to safety. "You two in the corner! It's time to make yourselves useful," he barked.

The baker woman saw this happen; for a moment, Donovan caught a glance of insecurity cross her face. But she doubled down against the beast, wailing away at it with her rolling pin.

"Almost there!" Phantom Striker shouted. "Split up!"

Phantom Striker and the baker dodged to the left and pelted the creature with blows. Following their lead, Donovan dodged right, along with the sword-wielding youth.

After several seconds of sustained blows from the four of them, the skeleton exploded into a burst of flames, gems, and what appeared to be turkey bones, strangely enough.

The flames in the room died out, and all was still once more.

"We did it!" The baker woman cheered breathlessly as she leaned against a wall.

"Indeed, the world is kept safe from undead vermin for a season more," Phantom Striker said with tired relief. "Well done."

Donovan nodded and sheathed his blade.

\---

Once the injured youth's leg was bandaged up, they all headed back to the town center, with the injured youth helped along by the shoulders of two of the others.

"That was a truly marvelous display," Black Knight said encouragingly to Donovan as the group walked back. "You fight like nothing I've ever seen. It's remarkable how you've improved since we first met."

"That's kind of you to say," Donovan said stiffly. He didn't revere Black Knight now the way he had as a teenager, but was still appreciative nonetheless-- in his own awkward way. "I suppose years on the road forced me to learn quickly."

"I confess I have often wondered how you flit about the air like that," Black Knight said curiously. "It seems you draw momentum from targets in front of you, and use that to stay afloat?"

"Something like that," Donovan said with a shrug. He'd never really thought about it.

"It baffles the mind!" Black Knight laughed. "I've fought many opponents, but no others who have managed that particular trick. Is it magic?"

Ahead of them, Phantom Striker fired out a bolt of lightning, vaporizing a small Invisishade as it approached.

"If it is magic, then surely there are flashier and more useful varieties elsewhere in the world," Donovan said wryly.

Black Knight laughed. "Well, not all of us can summon lightning from our blades. Your fighting style is remarkable, and I dare say unforgettable, all the same."

Donovan gave a quick half smile under his scarf. Combat had always come easily to him, and it was perhaps the only thing he'd ever been naturally good at. If it were possible to make a living as a mercenary, defending towns from beasts like this one, perhaps that wouldn't be such a terrible fit for him. Bringing safety to others was honorable in its way.

A shame the only real way to do that was as a knight.

"I must wonder, why assemble this group in the first place?" the baker woman wondered aloud. "Would the town guard not be the best for the job?"

"The town guard is petrified of the crypts," Donovan said coolly, smirking under his scarf. "They fear the undead and won't come near them, nor the places they are rumored to tread."

The baker woman furrowed her brow in confusion.

"The town guard has suffered many casualties in places like this," Phantom Striker added moodily. "Vanquishing the undead is a task best left to a professional."

"Nah, I think I could handle them," the youth with the sword boasted. 

"If we are ever invaded by an undead horde, we'll see how well you fare in the task," Phantom Striker snapped. "But in the meantime, pray that day never comes."

The group walked in uncomfortable silence after that.

\---

Back in the town center, the baker woman attempted to corral the rest of the group into the tavern for drinks.

"I think I'll pass," Donovan said uneasily, turning towards his hideout entrance.

"Nonsense!" Black Knight laughed. "If your friend is abroad, then perhaps you could use the company. Your first drink is on me."

Donovan sighed. "Very well," he said as he begrudgingly entered the tavern.

The baker sat at the bar with Phantom Striker and the two youths from the fight. Donovan deliberately passed by them and took a seat in the corner, hoping not to be noticed.

Black Knight noticed this and curiously joined him at his lonely corner booth.

"You truly are not much for merriment, are you?" Black Knight teased. "We emerged victorious! Is that not a cause for celebration?"

Donovan shrugged uneasily, his eyes darting about the tavern.

"Keeping a watchful eye for adversaries?" Black Knight chuckled gently. "To look at you, one might think you were still fighting the monster!"

Donovan blinked a few times, embarrassed. 

"You are in no danger here," Black Knight reassured him. "If anything, the people here should laud you as a hero. I'll prove it to you!"

Then Black Knight stood up, and Donovan's eyes went wide.

"Everyone, I would like to make a toast," Black Knight called out boldly. There wasn't an ear in the place that didn't hear him, to Donovan's chagrin. "To the brave heroes who helped vanquish the giant skeleton outside town! Phantom Striker, Marlene the baker…"

One by one, Black Knight listed the names of the people who went along. Donovan's hair stood up on the back of his neck.

"And of course Donovan, one of the finest fighters I've met!" Black Knight finished. "A toast to the conquering heroes!"

A few glasses clinked out appropriately… but then the gossip started from a few tables away.

"Donovan? As in Ronan's boy?" a lady at one table said curiously. 

"That troublemaker? Couldn't be," another woman laughed. "I heard he skipped town a few years back. Haven't seen his face since, and I'd sure remember it if I did!"

"No, he goes by the merchant's corner sometimes," a man said thoughtfully. "Just keeps a low profile is all. Can't blame him."

"Well, after what happened at the Whelan place, who wouldn't?"

"You know what they say about his dear old dad…"

Donovan stormed out of the tavern. He'd heard enough.

"Donovan?" Black Knight called out. But Donovan didn't stop. The free drink wasn't worth this.

The street tilted beneath his feet as he walked, despite his stone-cold sobriety. His face was warm, and it was hard to breathe under his scarf, but he couldn't take it off yet…

He disappeared into the hideout entrance. He needed to be alone for a while.

\---

Donovan wouldn't think about it. 

In some ways, Black Knight was right-- Donovan preferred battlefields over groups of people. With a dangerous beast on the road, one knew exactly where one stood. The danger was immediate and present. In a tavern, the danger could be anywhere, ready to spring up at any moment.

In the lonely corner of the hideout, he turned from the torch on the wall and lowered his scarf. The darkness of the hideout enveloped him completely, obscuring him from view. He took several breaths of air unfiltered by his scarf. He often forgot how cold the air normally was.

Luan still didn't know. In a way, it didn't matter. It had been a long time ago. Donovan wasn't there anymore. He'd remind himself of that as often as it took for it to sink in.

\---

As Donovan lay awake in his hammock that night, his mind drifted to memories of the past.

Luan had asked about his history only once. They'd been traveling together for a year or so, and the heavy summer air made for long, sticky nights on the road. Donovan and Luan had set up a cheap canvas tent to keep the worst of the insects out, and with no need to mind a fire, they'd filled the evenings with chatter until long after the sun went down.

"They tell a lot of stories about you, you know," a young Luan had said with a grin. He'd been so short, Donovan remembered. Donovan had towered over him by a solid six inches for years until Luan had finally caught up.

"Like what?" a young Donovan had asked.

"Oh, the usual. You steal candy from babies, owe money to everyone in town, you'd slit your mom's throat for a nickel, the works."

Donovan had given a short, derisive laugh.

"How much of it's true?" Luan had asked. The light in the tent had been dim, but Donovan still remembered the curious look on Luan's face. No judgment, just curiosity.

"What if it all was?" Donovan had answered. "You probably wouldn't wanna keep traveling with a thieving murderer, huh?"

Luan had laughed at that. "It's not," he'd said confidently. "You bluff about it, but I don't think you have it in you to kill someone."

Donovan's face had flushed in the dim light of the tent. "I could too!" he'd said defensively.

"No, I mean that in a good way!" Luan had clarified. "I mean, you're not a bad person. You wouldn't hurt someone on purpose who didn't deserve it, or steal from someone worse off than you."

Donovan hadn't said anything to that.

"Why are you on the streets, anyway?" Luan had asked. "Do you have a home? A family?"

"No."

"But you had to once, right?" Luan assumed with a cheeky grin.

Donovan had gone silent. 

Luan shrugged in his sleeping bag. "I guess it doesn't really matter," he'd said nonchalantly. "Whatever happened in the past is behind you. And me. A great knight pretty much has to be from a rich family to have a chance, but a great thief can come from anywhere!"

Donovan had smiled at that.

And that was all that was said on the subject. They never asked for each other's histories after that, although Luan would occasionally tell silly stories about his brothers growing up. Donovan had never breathed a word of his own history to Luan.

Maybe one day, he'd tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don't know how I missed this, but Donovan is an Irish name as well! And so is Ronan, accordingly. I'm getting good mileage out of the Gaelic name resource I found lol  
> 2\. Also Donovan basically wants to be a Witcher lol. He'd probably be good at it (something something toss a coin to the specter oh valley of plenty)  
> 3\. Also hey I broke 100 hits! So I figured I'd just drop a quick thanks here for reading, as well as for the kudos and comments that have been graciously left. I appreciate them all ^_^


	12. The Iron Whale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be on the safe side, this chapter contains implied moderate violence. Nothing that puts us out of a T-rating in my opinion, though.

A week later, Luan finally returned. His red coat was stained with road grime, and his hair was crusty with seawater. He collapsed into his hammock almost immediately.

"You look like hell," Donovan said bluntly.

"Don't I know it," Luan laughed. "But I got what I needed: a way into the Iron Whale."

Donovan stared in disbelief. "That's ridiculous," he said scornfully.

Luan grinned that winning smile of his. "It's more likely than you think. All you need is someone on the inside," he said tiredly.

"Like who?" Donovan said with a frown.

"A fisherman named Skip," Luan explained from his hammock. "He works aboard the Iron Whale as one of Treasure Knight's lackeys, but he hates his boss. I offered to help him tender his resignation."

"By emptying his employer's vault?" Donovan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Exactly!" Luan said with a wink. "Is there anything to eat around here? I'm starving."

Donovan had used some of his prize from the skeleton bounty to refill the pantry, so he gestured in its direction. Luan walked over and found the pantry entirely filled, top to bottom, with boxes of noodles.

"Noodles again?" Luan said with a tired laugh. 

Donovan shrugged. Noodles were cheap, filling, and didn't taste terrible. He liked them.

Luan sighed good-naturedly and started rummaging through them. Eventually he found an old loaf of bread and tore into it with gusto.

"What's the catch with the job?" Donovan asked.

"No catch," Luan said with his mouth full. "The Iron Whale docks just south of the Armor Outpost. Skip will sneak us schematics and uniforms to blend in. We're in and out in a few hours with 99,000 gold in our magic wallet, plus as many magical artifacts as we can carry."

Donovan's eyes narrowed. "This sounds too good to be true. There's something… off about this. Something…"

"Fishy?" Luan suggested with a hackneyed grin.

Donovan gave a sharp sigh that sounded almost like a hiss. "You aren't taking this seriously."

Luan gave a half grin and looked at Donovan strangely. "You aren't usually this much of a party pooper. What's on your mind?"

Donovan looked away as he fidgeted with the hem of his cloak. "Reina made me promise not to let you get yourself killed out there. You've been gone for a while, and she's worried sick. We… we both were," he finished awkwardly.

Luan raised his eyebrows. "Aw, I never knew that you cared," he joked. Donovan's face warmed under his scarf, but he said nothing.

"Regardless, there's nothing to worry about," Luan continued. "This mission is as safe as they come. Am I going alone, or are you in?"

Well, of course Donovan was in. What a silly question to ask.

\---

At Donovan's behest, Luan wrote a vague letter to Reina explaining that they would be gone for several days. They spent the remainder of the day preparing for their voyage, with Luan taking some much needed rest time.

A few days later, when their preparations were complete and Luan was well-rested, they departed for the Armor Outpost.

In a way, Treasure Knight represented everything that Donovan hated in the knights. Instead of land holdings, Treasure Knight owned a massive submarine known as the Iron Whale, and he used it to scavenge lost riches from the depths of the sea on behalf of the King. 

That part wasn't the problem. The problem was Treasure Knight's iron grip on the ports in the area as well. Fishers, merchants, and travelers were forced to pay stiff tariffs and fees to make use of the ocean, and Treasure Knight reportedly squirrelled these fees away in his vault for safe-keeping. It was an elaborate system of extracting wealth from a multitude of poor people to make one fabulously wealthy man even wealthier. Donovan found it disgusting.

Still, he had to admit a begrudging respect for the efficiency of Treasure Knight's operation. He famously ran a tight ship, and his port crews were every bit as organized. As Donovan and Luan traveled, Luan recounted his interactions with the port crews, and Donovan was surprised at the granular detail Luan described. In his observations, Luan had picked up minor details ranging from the length of their shifts to the decals on their uniforms.

"That's Lance up there," Luan said quietly a few days later when they reached the port. "He's a curmudgeonly sort, but also one who'll turn a blind eye to bribes. We got lucky."

Sure enough, a purple Goldarmor guarded the gate into the port.

"Halt and state your business," he said gruffly.

"Just here to get drinks with an old friend," Luan said casually. "Do we need to pay a fee for that?"

The Goldarmor stared suspiciously back at Luan. "No entrance except on official business."

"Sorry, did I say drinks? I meant fishing. Just a quiet afternoon of fishing for a few friends," Luan said with charisma Donovan could never hope to match. "So I just need a day pass for fishing for me and my friend. What's the total?"

The Goldarmor fidgeted with his shield restlessly.

"Who did you say you were meeting again?" he asked warily.

"Skip the fisherman," Luan answered. He was ready for that question.

"2000 gold," the Goldarmor finally relented. "But… be quick about it."

Luan quickly pulled out the required sum and paid it. "Thank you for your kindness," he said gentlemanly as he walked through the gate.

"Tight security," Donovan remarked a few minutes later when they entered the port proper.

"It gets like that whenever the Iron Whale is topside," Luan said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Nothing to concern ourselves over."

Donovan wasn't sure about that, but he said nothing.

The port was a miniscule place, more of a fort or rest stop than an actual town. Apart from the Goldarmors stationed at the port's perimeter, it had little to its name apart from an inn, a tavern, and a small market selling provisions. The whole place seemed ready to pack up and leave at a moment's notice.

Luan led the way to the ramshackle tavern, and Donovan followed him inside.

Almost all of the structures in the town were temporary tents set up, but the tavern was one of the few permanent structures in the town. The squat wooden structure sat a few hundred feet from the sea, and the sound of waves rolling over the rocks filled the air. 

Luan led Donovan to an outdoor patio, and they both sat down. The cold spray of the ocean wind spattered Donovan's face. He was grateful that his scarf protected him from the worst of it. They ordered some drinks while they waited-- a gin and tonic for Luan, a beer for Donovan like usual. Although when he tasted it, the quality was such that he couldn't be sure it wasn't water. Ugh.

Several minutes later, a lanky young man came ambling by. He wore a fisherman's uniform and carried a spear.

"Skip," Luan acknowledged with a nod.

"Sorry I'm late," the young man said with an apologetic grin. "I got held up in the commissary. But I have what I owe you."

Then he looked around to make sure nobody was watching and slid a parcel under the table.

"One fisher's uniform and one Gulper Mage uniform," he whispered. "Just don't get caught not using magic in it."

Luan nodded approvingly. "Thank you, friend," he said gently.

"Pleasure's all mine," Skip said with a shrug. "It's about time someone showed the boss what for. I also got you these."

Here Skip pulled out a stack of parchment lined with complicated diagrams. It made Donovan's head spin to look at it.

"Staff entrance is here, portholes are here and here," Skip pointed out on the diagram. "The room you want is here, but getting from point A to point B will be tricky. You see, this is in the ballast."

Luan frowned curiously. "I don't follow."

Skip made a puzzled face. "Really? Well, um, the ballast is the room that fills with water. Makes the submarine go up and down. It connects to the bilge here, which is the tank that dumps wastewater back into the ocean. So bottom line is, the room you need to get to is underwater."

Donovan huffed. "That puts a damper on things, doesn't it?"

"A bit," Skip admitted. "Even if you were experienced divers, it'd take some time to load up your pack, and it'd weigh you down something fierce. But there's an alternative."

"Go on," Luan said, eyes locked intently on Skip.

"There's a magic item you could try for instead," Skip said quietly. "It's a golden plaque that lets the user wield fireballs-- five at a time. The boss keeps it dry in his private chambers."

Skip pointed to a different spot on the map. Donovan noted that it wasn't terribly far from the vault. From the slow smile creeping across Luan's face, Donovan guessed he realized the same thing.

"You've been a great help, Skip," Luan said gratefully.

"Glad to hear it!" Skip said with a smile as he folded up the blueprints and packed them up. "I need to return those uniforms to the commissary as soon as possible to avoid suspicion, so please let me know when you're finished with them. Best of luck to you both."

Then Skip sauntered off, leaving Luan and Donovan at their seaside table.

Luan could barely suppress his mischievous grin. Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Shall we go for a walk?" he said sternly, gesturing to the unpopulated beachside.

\---

"No."

"Come on, Donovan, you must be tempted!"

"No."

"Doubling the ventures doubles our chances of success," Luan said with a wink.

"It also doubles our chances of capture and death," Donovan said bluntly.

"We can go together until the fork in the path," Luan said reassuringly. "Then one to each side to maximize the loot. It's the perfect plan."

"It's hubris!" Donovan shouted. Luckily for him, there was nobody around to hear it. "And it will be the ruin of us."

Luan raised his eyebrows. "You're not scared, are you?"

Donovan growled as he clenched his fists. "Justified caution is not fear. If we're caught, there's no exit. They can seal off all exits to the vessel and trap us until we surrender. There are too many ways this could go wrong."

Luan went silent for a moment. "I could go alone, then. I won't force you to go if you don't accept the risks."

Donovan sighed sharply. "That's not the point. I don't want you putting yourself in that kind of danger, either. I'm sure Reina would say the same if she was here."

Luan gave a short chuckle. "You leave her out of this," he chided gently. "I'll tell her all about it when I'm back in the Village with a full pack of loot. Until then, this doesn't concern her."

"But it does concern you, and since you aren't looking out for your own best interest, I will," Donovan said sternly. "You can't be serious about all of this."

Luan sighed and stared out at the ocean. "Things are about to change for me. With a kid back home, I won't be able to be as carefree as I'm used to. If this is the last job I ever go on, I want to make sure it's a good one."

"Now you're just being absurd," Donovan said with a raised eyebrow. "We're going to go on plenty of adventures yet-- but in order to do that, you have to survive this one. We can't take unnecessary risks."

Luan nodded. "Fine. What unnecessary risks do you suggest eliminating?"

Donovan thought a moment. "Splitting up is an unnecessary risk. If we stay together, one can keep lookout while the other does the work."

Luan shrugged. "You don't think the increase in time from that approach is worth eliminating?" he asked. "Remember, we won't have our weapons. If we get caught at all, it's over, lookout or not."

Donovan frowned. The idea of going weaponless made his skin crawl. "Perhaps we could sneak in a knife or two?" he suggested.

"So we can kill anyone who approaches?" Luan said incredulously.

Donovan sighed. Luan made a fair point. Killing beasts in self-defense while traveling was one thing, but slaughtering Skip's coworkers was quite another.

"Look," Luan said appeasingly. "We've been on dangerous jobs before. We'll go on dangerous jobs yet. This isn't much different from any of them."

"It is, though," Donovan argued. "If things go wrong, we won't be contending with four angry Goldarmors-- we'll have an entire crew at our throats."

"All the better to go quickly, then," Luan shrugged.

Donovan gave a resigned sigh. "I can't persuade you to abandon that magical artifact, can I?"

Luan shook his head. "It sounds entirely too useful to leave, especially when it's just off our path. I'll run to fetch it while you fill the wallet. We'll be out in no time."

Donovan nodded. He knew he wasn't going to win this test of wills anyway. "Fine."

\---

The time limit on the commissary uniforms meant they had little time to rest up before embarking on their journey. So they paid for a room at the inn and dropped off their armor and equipment before changing into their disguises that afternoon.

"How do I look?" Luan asked with a laugh several minutes later. He wore plain linen breeches with a blue shirt and matching hat. The shirt was a few sizes too small, and the way it clung to Luan's physique caught Donovan's attention. 

Donovan coughed quietly and looked away, embarrassed. Had Luan always been in such good shape? Surely this wasn't the scrawny street urchin he'd met in the armory all those years ago. Donovan wondered when that had changed. 

"Looking sharp," he said distractedly, grateful that his oversized Gulper Mage helmet obscured his entire face from view. 

Luan laughed. "Thanks," he joked. "Shame this shirt is a bit tight in the arms-- it makes it hard to move in. All the more reason for us to hurry, I suppose. How's the Gulper costume?"

"Obnoxious," Donovan replied. The helmet was bulky and heavy, and it made visibility difficult. But at least the accompanying garments were easy to move in. "All the more reason to hurry, like you said."

And with that, they snuck out the window and headed for the Iron Whale.

\---

Luan directed Donovan to a staff entrance for the submarine. They blended right in with the parade of workers as they streamed in and out of the vessel for various reasons. A long ladder descended through the open entrance, and Luan and Donovan climbed inside.

The Iron Whale was a mess of copper piping and riveted metal. Donovan passed dozens of strange-looking dials and gauges, none of which he knew the meaning of.

Luan walked confidently forward through a spray of steam from the ceiling. Donovan only had a loose idea of where they were going, so he followed closely. Luan led them through a tangle of passageways that quickly left Donovan feeling quite lost.

The duo passed a fisherman in the hall; Luan waved casually at the fellow, who barely looked up from the valve in the wall he was working on. So far, so good.

Luan led them down a different ladder, taking them deep into the belly of the vessel. Here a patch of water came up to their ankles, and moving forward meant wading through it. Donovan growled in disgust.

"Look out!" Luan called back as a Serprize leaped from the water. Donovan pulled a knife from the purple tunic of his uniform and slashed at it. The fish darted away.

"Told you the knives would come in handy," Donovan muttered, his voice muffled by his fish-shaped helmet.

Luan laughed. "Alright, you got me there."

After a few more minutes of walking, Luan turned to a hatch in the wall. He checked that the coast was clear and quietly opened it, gesturing for Donovan to follow.

"Now we're in restricted territory," Luan whispered.

"You say that like we weren't before," Donovan whispered back. Luan stifled a laugh.

The water came up to their knees now, and moving silently through the water became a challenge. Donovan took to sliding his feet along the floor through the water, displacing as little of it as possible as he walked. Luan walked in the same manner, and progress was slow but consistent.

After many long minutes of trudging through the water, the sound of splashy footsteps in the distance alerted them both to an enemy.

Luan's eyes darted around his surroundings, searching frantically for a place they could hide. Eventually he settled on an empty storage compartment in the ceiling. Luan scaled the pipe-ridden walls and held out a hand for Donovan, who took it. The two clambered into the compartment, the sounds of their ascent masked by the splashing of the worker below.

Through gaps in the piping below him, Donovan could just make out the sight of a violet Goldarmor walking through the dim light of the halls. The figure carried a strange device and periodically plugged it into various dials in the walls, monitored the numbers, and nodded approvingly before moving to the next dial.

The figure's progress moved at a glacial pace. Donovan dared not make a sound, but he clenched his fist in frustration at how long this was taking. In the close quarters of the compartment, Luan must have felt the movement against his own arm, because he patted Donovan's arm reassuringly. Donovan took a deep, silent breath. They could wait this out. They had to.

It felt like hours before the figure exited the passage, but in reality, it was probably closer to 45 minutes. Eventually, though, the Goldarmor's splashing footsteps disappeared down the hall, and it was time to move forward.

Donovan and Luan took extra care to move silently now, realizing that the slightest misstep could alert the figure down the hall. They couldn't afford the splashing that would happen if one of them tripped and fell. So, step by painfully slow step, they made their way down the hall.

Finally, they reached the fork in the road. The fork, in this case, diverged at a ladder and an unassuming hatch into the floor of the vessel.

Donovan and Luan exchanged a glance. Luan signed that he would meet up with Donovan when he was finished, and they split up.

Unfortunately for Donovan, he lacked the ability to breathe underwater. He had hoped that the Gulper Mage disguise he wore would help in this regard, but alas, it did not. So he held his breath and quietly sunk into the depths of the hold.

Luckily for him, the vault was comparatively well-lit inside, and he didn't have to swim far before he saw gold. And when he saw gold, he saw it as far as the eye could see. Donovan's eyes practically bugged out under his helmet; this was more wealth than a person should ever see in an entire lifetime, let alone for one man to hoard at once. 

Donovan would gleefully do his part to rectify that. 

He swam to the bottom of the hold and began to fill the magic wallet he'd gotten from Chester; in this task, it would pay itself off and then some. Coin by coin, gem by gem, he filled the wallet until he ran out of air. Then he swam back to the top, took another breath, and went back down.

He had repeated this cycle some half a dozen times when a loud whistle filled the air, and the lighting on the vessel turned red. The vessel echoed with frantic footsteps from the deck above.

Shit.

That was Donovan's cue to leave. He swam up to the hatch and looked around, but Luan was nowhere in sight. Donovan's blood ran cold. Had Luan been captured? 

Suddenly something grabbed him by the ankle and forced him underwater with a huge splash. 

Donovan's eyes went wide as he faced his captor. 

"Thought you could pull one over on me, did you?" Treasure Knight sneered, keeping an iron grip on Donovan's ankle as he pulled the wallet from Donovan's hands. "Today you learn that nobody steals from the great Treasure Knight and lives to tell the tale."

Donovan's lungs burned; he hadn't gotten a good breath before his sudden plummet into the water. He had little time to act before unconsciousness took him. He scrambled for his knife and slashed at Treasure Knight.

Treasure Knight could have easily dodged if he'd let go of Donovan, but instead he held on, ensuring that Donovan would remain within slashing range. So Treasure Knight took a hearty cut to his helmet and roared in pain.

"You little brat!" he seethed. "I'll show you what we do with stowaways!"

Between Donovan's burning lungs and poor maneuverability underwater, Treasure Knight easily overpowered him, ridding him of his knife and placing him in a chokehold. He then pressed a button on the wall, opening a grate to reveal a cavernous compartment behind.

"Out with the bilge you go!" Treasure Knight shouted, forcing Donovan inside and closing the grate behind him.

Donovan grew panicked now. This new room had no air in it, and his motions grew sluggish from oxygen deprivation. He was fading fast. He could die here, and Luan would never know what happened. 

Donovan never should have come here.

\---

Luan had a much easier time of things. The artifact he sought laid unsupervised on Treasure Knight's dresser, and he picked it up without a problem.

He immediately started back to rejoin Donovan, weaving through the twisted halls of the vessel with competence and stealth. Everything was going fine. What had Donovan been so worried about, anyway?

Luan was only a few halls away from the fork when the alarm went off. His eyes widened, and he abandoned the pretense of stealth, instead breaking into a full sprint.

When he reached the top of the ladder, he saw Donovan poke his head out of the hatch, search for something, and get pulled under the water with a shout and a splash. Shit.

Luan grabbed the outer bars of the ladder and slid down before sprinting across the room towards the hatch. He had to be there now. Every moment he wasted was a moment that Donovan could…. No, he couldn't think like that. They'd get out of this. They always did.

Luan became suddenly grateful for the water rescue tips Skip had given him a few weeks prior. They were about to become critically important. With a huge breath, Luan dived into the hold, searching for Donovan. 

Luan saw Treasure Knight push Donovan into the bilge tank and shut the grate. Luan's eyes went wide.

Treasure Knight noticed Luan at around this time, and lunged towards him. Luan responded with a sharp kick into Treasure Knight's torso, which sent Treasure tumbling back briefly before he anchored himself to the wall with the harpoon on his arm. What a fearsome foe.

But Luan didn't have time to worry about that now. Instead, he grabbed Treasure Knight's harpoon as it retracted, pulling him straight towards his foe. He delivered a kick with both feet, stunning Treasure Knight for a moment. 

Luan scrambled at the interface on the wall, and he eventually found the button to open the grate. He mashed it, and it slowly opened.

As he did so, Treasure Knight grabbed him, and the two broke out into a small scuffle for a few precious moments. Eventually Luan broke free and dived for Donovan in the bilge tank.

"Fine. You can die with your friend," Treasure sneered as he closed the grate behind them.

Fuck.

Luan's mind scrambled as he considered his options. He was trapped in a waterlogged room with no obvious entrances or exits. Donovan already lay motionless, and Luan would be next in a few minutes. Luan searched the interior of the bilge tank. There had to be a way out…

Eventually, Luan noticed a hatch in the floor. This was his last chance. Luan battered at it with his fists at first, to no avail. Then he tried the new artifact he found, which launched five fireballs in sequence at the hatch, but it still wouldn't open.

Then Luan tried the knife Donovan had suggested he bring. He tinkered with the mechanism, remembering when Donovan taught him to pick locks all those years ago. After a long moment of fiddling with the device, it snapped open into the ocean below, complete with a ladder extending into the depths.

Luan's lungs were burning now, and the chill of the ocean water sapped his energy by the second, but the adrenaline in his system kept him going. He grabbed Donovan by the arm and kicked away from the tank, sending them both out of the vessel and into the ocean depths.

From there, he caught a glimpse of sunlight far off in the distance. Luan swam towards it like his life depended on it, because in this case, it did. When his grip on Donovan's wrist faltered, he grabbed Donovan by the torso with both arms and kicked wildly for the surface. When the weight of Donovan's unconscious body threatened to overwhelm him, he pushed on through the sheer force of will, fighting for every inch between him and the surface.

After what felt like an eternity, Luan broke through the surface, filling his lungs with much-needed oxygen. He indulged in two more breaths before kicking towards the beach.

The springtime ocean was still freezing cold, and Luan became acutely aware of this as the sea breeze blew across his face and hair. He'd fall victim to temperature shock himself if he wasn't careful. But Donovan was dying as he swam. With a final desperate push, Luan heaved himself and Donovan onto the rough sand of the deserted beach.

"Donovan!" Luan shouted, but Donovan didn't respond. Luan pulled Donovan from the lapping ocean tides and shouted again, to no avail.

Luan fought the exhaustion in his body and instead turned to Donovan. He removed Donovan's Gulper Mage helmet, which poured out liters of water when it came off. 

With the helmet discarded to the side, Luan's next step was to check Donovan's breathing. Donovan had kept his scarf on inside the Gulper Mage helmet, which didn't surprise Luan. But with Donovan's life on the line, Luan hoped he would be forgiven for what he did next.

Luan gently lifted Donovan's scarf away from his face.

The first thing to catch Luan's notice was a gnarled patch of scar tissue covering Donovan's right cheek and jaw. The raised, red tissue overlapped itself in bands, forming a creased, uneven surface. Short beard stubble covered his lower face around the scar. Luan couldn't help but take in the rest of his friend's face, which he had never seen in its entirety before-- the angular ridge of his nose, the gentle slope of his jaw. Turns out Donovan wasn't a bad-looking guy under the helmet, scar or not.

But Luan didn't have time to think about that. Instead, he focused his attention on the task at hand, tilting Donovan onto his side and gently opening his mouth. A small stream of seawater poured out.

"Donovan," Luan whispered roughly, desperately. Still Donovan didn't stir. Luan started checking for his breathing and pulse. He wasn't about to give up just yet.

\---

Eventually, Donovan came to.

He sputtered up what felt like a lungful of seawater. A pair of hands directed him from his back to his side as he coughed and fought to get air into his lungs.

After several deep, labored breaths, Donovan sat up, disoriented. He could hear the waves of the ocean and calling seagulls in the distance. He felt the sandy beach beside him. And when he opened his eyes, he saw Luan in front of him, his hair and clothing soaked with seawater. Luan broke out into a relieved grin.

"Good god, Donovan, don't scare me like that!" Luan said with a laugh as Donovan got his bearings. "You had me worried there."

Donovan felt disoriented as he struggled to put together what happened. He blinked and looked around him, shivering from the cold. Was that his scarf on the ground?

Suddenly Donovan's eyes went wide, and his hand shot to his face in terror.

"I'm sorry about that," Luan said sincerely. "You were drowning and you would have died. I had to do something."

Donovan said nothing, but he quietly picked up the scarf from the ground and tied it back up. The cold cloth was uncomfortable against his skin, but it was better than going without.

"Let's get back to the inn," Luan suggested. 

Luckily, they were only a few minutes away, and a short while later, they sat in their room in dry clothing by a fire. Luan purchased some hot soup from a merchant down the road, and with warm food in their bellies, both of them felt better.

"So you fought Treasure Knight?" Donovan said in disbelief, a blanket curled around his shoulders. His shivering and chattering teeth were only now starting to subside.

"It was hardly a fight," Luan laughed. "I kicked him out of the way a few times and came for you in the bilge tank. He seemed happy enough to lock me up in there as well."

"But you got us out," Donovan said curiously.

"There was a hatch in the bottom with a ladder leading into it," Luan explained. "I fiddled with it until it opened and swam us both to safety. It was touch and go with you for a bit."

Donovan nodded in understanding.

"Well, I suppose I owe you my life, then," Donovan said somberly. "A thank you doesn't really seem sufficient."

Luan shook his head. "No, I don't deserve it. You were right-- this job was too dangerous, and you nearly paid the price. I should've listened to you. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about your scarf, too."

Donovan sighed. "I take it you saw, then."

"I did," Luan said guiltily. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Donovan thought a moment and then nodded once. 

"It was in my early days as a thief," Donovan started. "I was fourteen years old and desperate for food, and my usual source for that was the grocer's place. But the town guard had caught me there the day prior and threatened me within an inch of my life if I came back. So I needed a new location.

"I ended up at a local residence-- the Whelan household. After I thought they'd gone to bed, I snuck in through their back door and into the pantry. I only wanted food, and I had no other way of getting it myself, you understand."

Luan nodded.

"As I grabbed an armful of food, I heard footsteps," Donovan continued. "It turned out that they were in their room, and when they heard me in the pantry, Mr. Whelan grabbed a poker from the fireplace for self defense. I remember it was still red hot by the time he reached me."

Luan winced.

"I'm sure you can imagine what happened next," Donovan said quietly. All emotion had left his voice by this point. "I made it out with some food, but the pain was so bad I couldn't even eat it. A few days later, the area became infected, and I sought out an alchemist in desperation. His remedy made the pain worse."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Luan said with a sympathetic nod.

"It was a long time ago," Donovan said distantly. "But you can imagine an identifying mark like this wouldn't be… compatible with my lifestyle."

"Hence the scarf," Luan surmised.

"Hence the scarf."

Luan thought for a moment. "I suppose I'm lucky a job hasn't gone sour for me like that. Well, except the tournament. I still have a nasty mark in my shoulder from that."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Donovan said sarcastically.

"Haha! Fair enough, it doesn't affect my life nearly as much as yours," Luan clarified. "We'll see how long my luck lasts, I suppose."

The two sat in silence for a moment.

"And… thanks for telling me all that," Luan said offhandedly. "I know you don't like to talk about your life before. But… thank you for trusting me with it all the same."

Donovan didn't really have a response to that, so he changed the subject instead. "Did you at least get what you came for today?" he asked.

Luan gave a half grin. "That I did," he said, pulling out the plaque to show Donovan. "Works exactly as advertised. But don't use it in here, obviously."

Donovan gave a small smile under his scarf. "That's good. I fear Treasure Knight made off with the wallet. I'm glad the journey wasn't a complete waste of time."

"Pshh, don't worry about that," Luan said with an egotistical grin. "I got it back from him in our scuffle. You taught me well in the ways of pickpocketing, friend." Here Luan pulled the wallet from his pocket and handed it over.

Donovan gave a hearty laugh. "I'm impressed," he admitted. "I thought it was gone for good. You saved the day."

Luan shrugged. "I still shouldn't have pressured you into this in the first place. But at least we can enjoy the benefits of my ill-advised venture. How much did you fit in there, anyway?"

"Why don't we find out?" Donovan suggested.

And they spent the rest of the evening counting the gold Donovan had gathered. By the end, they were both grinning ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Man this was a research-heavy chapter! I hope my searches on drowning didn't put me on some kind of watch list. I also made an honest to good attempt to research submarines for this chapter (despite the fact it literally put me to sleep trying lol), but there are discrepancies between IRL submarines and Shovel Knight's Iron Whale, including torpedoes being launched inside the vessel (wtf) and a ladder leading up and into the interior while submerged (lol). I failed to think of a good reason for the Iron Whale to be as waterlogged as it is (since Treasure Knight's vault being underwater is indeed canon), and the bilge/ballast combo in this fic was my earnest attempt at shoehorning canon into my limited knowledge of submarine architecture. I don't think it works that way in real life.
> 
> tl;dr Given a choice between reality and canon, I chose the one I know better, and that's canon. And then I chose to BS everything for the sake of plot anyways. I apologize to any submarine enthusiasts for the inevitable inaccuracies. Also take it up with Yacht Club Games first lol
> 
> 2\. The King of Cards overworld map and Shovel of Hope overworld map are different from each other. It is the perpetual bane of my existence as a fic writer lol. Regardless, the KoC map has a single building on the coast bordering the ocean, which I have decided to interpret as a port town for plot reasons.
> 
> 3\. Also I finally get to talk about the alchemical compound from way back! Sodium hypochlorite is a real antimicrobial chemical used in the 1700's to treat burns, and it's not used today due to the irritation it causes. The alchemist very possibly did save Donovan's life (sepsis is a bad time yo), but Donovan isn't an alchemist and might not know that.
> 
> 4\. Last but not least, please do not take medical advice from fanfiction lol. If you find yourself in the position of rescuing a drowning victim, plz call 911/your local equivalent


	13. A Change of Scenery

Their haul came out to a total of some 30,000 gold pieces. After a brief celebration, Donovan collapsed in bed and slept for over 15 hours straight. A day and a half of traveling and nearly drowning had taken their toll on him, apparently.

When he woke, Luan was reading a book on his bed; some street foot lay on the inn nightstand. A moment later, Luan looked up and saw that Donovan was awake.

"Donovan! Good morning," Luan said brightly. "I returned the uniforms and got you some food. You know, to make up for the whole drowning thing."

Donovan chuckled and looked over. He saw a pretzel and shish kebab of some kind. He shrugged and started tearing off morsels to eat under his scarf.

"Thanks," he said with his mouth full. "But you didn't have to."

"Eh, I was hungry anyways," Luan shrugged. "It's early afternoon, you know. You slept for a long time. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Donovan answered. 

"Well, maybe another day of recovery is in order before we head home, then," Luan suggested. "It'd be a shame for you to die of hypothermia on the road after your miraculous survival."

Donovan wanted to shrug it off and leave, but the ache in his muscles told him Luan was probably right."

"Fine, just the one," Donovan agreed. "It's not like we don't have the fees for the inn now."

"That's the spirit!" Luan laughed. 

Donovan worried about attracting the attention of Treasure Knight's forces, so he mostly stayed in the room at the inn. They put a fire in the hearth and played cards for several hours. Donovan got fiercely competitive with games and picked up the lion's share of the wins, but Luan's easygoing smile told Donovan that he didn't mind.

When evening came, Luan left to get dinner for the both of them, and to Donovan's delight he came back with freshly baked fish-- Donovan's favorite. They didn't often get seafood back in the Lich Yard, so Donovan savored every bite. They talked over dinner and for hours afterwards, exchanging tall tales and exaggerated heroics of days gone by.

It was nice. Or, even more than that, it was the perfect day, at least in Donovan's mind. 

He was also keenly aware that it was the exact sort of day that wasn't likely to happen again when they returned home. Luan would be too busy with Reina and his new child. Donovan knew he would take a backseat to all of that. He'd accepted it, even. But he made sure to enjoy this while it lasted.

When night fell and the area cleared of people, Luan went to bring back some beers for the two of them, and Donovan stepped out for some fresh air. He sat at the deserted beachside, staring at the glittering ocean before him. By now the Iron Whale's ugly silhouette had long since departed, leaving the ocean unmarred by its presence. The tide was out, so the sea spray was less a spray than it was a gentle breeze.

It was there Luan found him, bottles in hand, and he took a seat beside Donovan. They cracked the bottles open together as they took in the view. No words exchanged between them. None were needed.

For that brief moment in time, everything was perfect.

\---

They left for home the next morning. 

The road back to the Lich Yard was a long one, and they had to camp out on the road in the middle of the journey. But after a lot of walking, they made it home a day and a half later, just as planned.

"It is good to be home," Luan said with relief as he collapsed into his hammock. "I've missed this place, and I've missed Reina. I wonder how she and the child are doing…"

And just like that, the spell was broken. Donovan sighed inwardly as he leaned against the hideout wall, determined not to show his disappointment at Luan's shift in focus. 

"You could send her a letter," Donovan suggested. "She mentioned that she wouldn't be traveling down this way much anymore, because of the whole… well..."

"Pregnancy, yeah," Luan said, waving his hand. "But there's no real way to receive a reply here, right?"

Donovan stiffened. He had concerns about the direction this conversation was leading.

"Surely there must be a way to get a box at the post office," Donovan said with a shrug.

Luan went silent for a moment. "You must know where I'm going with this," he said seriously, and even a bit sadly. Luan was so rarely either.

Donovan looked away. "Yes," he said distantly. "You think it's time to move closer to the Village. To Reina."

Luan gave a sharp exhale. "It makes the most sense, doesn't it?" he said, sounding conflicted. "I want to be in my kid's life. I can't do that if I'm this far away. And the kid deserves better than the Lich Yard. Right?"

Donovan had nothing to say.

Luan looked at him, pleading in his eyes. "You said once that you had nothing tying you down here, right? That we'd have better chances in the Village?"

Donovan didn't trust himself to speak. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't say it. This place was theirs. Donovan didn't want to leave a place that was theirs for a place that wasn't. 

"Please, say something," Luan said quietly.

Donovan turned away, the torches on the wall casting long shadows over him.

"I don't want to leave," he finally, painfully admitted. "And I don't want you to leave, either. But… I understand that you need to."

Pain crossed Luan's face for a moment, but he blinked it away.

"We can still come back," Luan offered. "We can store our weapons and supplies here, and regroup here before missions. We don't have to leave entirely."

Donovan said nothing.

"Or... you could stay behind," Luan said quietly, resignedly. "I won't force you to come along."

But Donovan knew that would defeat the purpose. He didn't just want the hideout-- he wanted Luan in the hideout with him. Given the impossibility of that, he couldn't choose the empty husk of the hideout when its soul was in the Village.

"No, I'll come," Donovan said with certainty. "I figured this day was coming. I just… didn't realize it would be so soon."

Luan said nothing, but simply nodded in acknowledgement.

\---

They spent the rest of the week coordinating the move. Luan made the walk up to the Village to explain to Reina what was happening-- Donovan was sure she would be thrilled. That left him behind in the hideout to pack.

The truth was that there wasn't much to take along. Some of the more cumbersome pieces of furniture might as well stay behind, like the mismatched dining set and pantry. The closet might as well stay, along with a few spare sets of clothing for each of them. Donovan packed the rest. 

Donovan also loaded their paltry hoard of savings into the wallet for transportation and packed Luan's collection of books into a box. He also loaded their stores of food into a sack. 

Donovan's eyes turned to Luan's bedside table. It still held the mysterious object that Luan had pilfered from his family home all those years ago. Donovan would ask about it when Luan returned. Beyond that, Donovan had his lock-picking kit, his lantern and other thieving supplies, his armor, and not much else besides.

All of their earthly possessions that they'd be taking with them could fit into a saddlebag or two. It was a strange thought.

A few days later, Luan and Reina arrived on horseback, the latter seeming somewhat uncomfortable in her saddle. Donovan did a final once-over with Luan on the place, and then they were off.

Donovan gazed sadly back in the hideout's direction as they left.

\---

"Here we are!" Reina announced an hour or so later as they came to a stop at her house. Their house, now.

Donovan had barely paid attention to the interior of the place last time they visited, but now that he was to live here, he took in the place a bit more-- the grey wallpaper, the old rafters, the strange statue in the middle of the room. As Reina gave him the tour, he realized that what he had previously taken for a side room was in fact a hallway with a few bedrooms in a neat row. 

"Alright, we got Farm and Pupils' rooms over there," Reina said, pointing down the hall. "This one's yours, and Luan and I will be in the corner."

All of that made enough sense, Donovan supposed. The door to Luan and Reina's room was open while Luan unpacked, and Donovan spied an ornate wooden crib in the corner. His heart softened at that.

Donovan's own room was small, with barely enough room for a bed and dresser. Certainly much smaller than the sprawling hideout… but on the other hand, this was a real bed, not a hammock. Donovan marveled at the softness of the comforter. It smelled faintly of lavender and cedar, no doubt the lingering effects of the place it had been stored.

The mid-day sun streamed through the window, and Donovan had a clear view of the farm outside and a tower off in the distance. Maybe, if he put his mind to it, he could learn to be happy here.

A few hours later, when Donovan and Luan had finished unpacking their meager belongings, Donovan went outside and sat on the back porch, lost in thought.

"See, it's not so bad," Luan said as he sat down to join him. "The beds are nice, and the rent isn't too bad, all things considered."

"It's not," Donovan agreed, but he couldn't hide the hollowness to his voice.

"You miss it, huh?" Luan said knowingly. Donovan said nothing, and Luan correctly took that as confirmation.

"I always thought you hated the Lich Yard," Luan said with a shrug. "The people there never showed either of us much kindness. I thought you'd be happy to leave."

"It's not that simple," Donovan said uncomfortably. "It was… familiar. I knew my place there, humble as it was. I have no place here."

"You will in time," Luan said confidently. 

"Maybe," Donovan replied.

"Hey, dinner's in a few minutes," Reina called out. "Can you boys set the table?"

"Wait, you made dinner for us?" Donovan said in confusion. He'd fully expected to be on his own for meals.

"Yeah, we eat dinner as a family here," Reina said warmly. "And what's a family if not me, my hedgehog brothers, my boyfriend, and my boyfriend's weird best friend?"

Donovan took issue with Reina's cavalier definition of the word "family." But Luan just laughed. "Fair enough. We'll be right in."

Donovan crept quietly into the house, suddenly all too aware of his lack of knowledge on table manners. The occasion to learn them had never come up, and now he was going to make a fool of himself in front of his… landlords, he supposed? His best friend's… in-laws? This was a complicated situation.

Luan handed him a stack of dishes and silverware from the cupboard, and Donovan had no idea what to do with them. He supposed the plates went on the placemats, but there were nearly twice as many forks as there were people. Why were there so many forks?!

"You ok over there?" Luan said curiously, noticing his distress.

Donovan scowled. "Fine, I admit it. I don't know how to set this table."

Luan frowned curiously, and Donovan braced himself for the inevitable laughter that was coming. But it never came--instead Luan looked down sheepishly. 

"Sorry, I didn't realize," Luan said, and he took the silverware back from Donovan. "Table settings go from the outside in. Salad forks, then dinner forks…" And so Luan patiently explained the rest of the table setting procedure. Donovan found the whole thing absurd.

Then Reina walked into the dining room.

"Luan, what are you doing?" she laughed. "We don't need five sets of silverware for a regular old dinner!"

Luan blinked. "Do you not… normally… do that?" he asked in confusion. 

"Good heavens, no!" Reina laughed. "Can you imagine all the dishes we'd have to do? No, just one fork and knife per person is plenty!"

Donovan folded his arms in vindication. He knew there was something absurd about the silverware.

Luan still looked confused though. "Should people get salad or dinner forks?" he wondered aloud. "Surely not oyster forks…"

Reina kissed him on the cheek. "Dinner forks will be just fine, my sweet useless aristocrat," she said gently. 

"Hey, that's 'former aristocrat' to you!" Luan laughed. 

"Old habits die hard," Donovan said in a deadpan voice.

Reina laughed. "Lesson learned. I'll have you two cut vegetables or something next time."

"Hey, we'll figure this out," Luan said confidently. "It's only our first day, after all."

"That's true," Reina acknowledged. "You'll be regulars on the chore list in no time. Speaking of which, have either of you ever cleaned a toilet before?"

Luan and Donovan went silent, but were luckily spared from answering by Hedge Farmer, who announced that dinner was ready.

Dinner was shepherd's pie with salad and fresh bread. And Donovan had to admit, it was really good. The bread had a thick crust, and it felt satisfying to bite into. The salad was light and crisp. The shepherd's pie was rich and savory. Luan had a giddy expression as he devoured his meal; he seemed to be really enjoying it. And apart from some lighthearted ribbing from Hedge Farmer, nobody objected to Donovan keeping his hood and scarf on for the meal.

Donovan mused on how strange it was that some people just… lived like this. Some people ate dinner as a household like this every day. This meal, which Donovan could only think of as a luxury or rare treat, was just *normal* for other people. Maybe that's what Reina had meant when she called his life view "stilted."

On the one hand, he could get used to this.

On the other hand, his room was so dreadfully quiet that night. Donovan had grown accustomed to Luan's snoring from across the room, and he felt its absence more keenly here in these strange surroundings. 

He supposed he would have to get used to that, too.

\---

As the weeks went by, they slowly settled into their new routine. 

Hedge Farmer kept very busy with sowing grain at this time of year, and despite living under the same roof, Donovan had no clue where Hedge Pupil went during the day. And since Luan and Reina kept busy preparing for the autumn arrival of their new family member, Donovan had a lot of time to himself.

Reina and Farmer happily put his idle hands to work doing chores around the household, which Donovan didn't mind. As Reina's pregnancy progressed, there were many household tasks she couldn't perform as easily as she was used to, and Donovan was fine stepping in for those.

As spring passed into summer, it came time to harvest the first batch of wheat from the hills. In exchange for a rent reduction, Donovan and Luan helped Hedge Farmer with the harvest, spending long hours in the fields with a scythe. Donovan cut down the crop as Luan tied it into bundles behind him, and they did this for days on end.

"How goes the field?" Reina said from the kitchen as the two walked in the back door, tired from the day's work.

"It goes," Luan said lightly. "Hedge Farmer says we aren't up to pace yet, but we're getting there."

"It takes practice," Reina reassured him as she brought out glasses of water for the two of them. To Donovan's surprise, they had ice in them-- a rare luxury. Ice had to be imported from the Birder Bluffs, and that was expensive.

"Thank you for this, by the way," Luan said with relief as he drained his cup. Donovan nodded in assent.

"I've worked the fields before, I know how it goes," Reina said with a knowing smile. "I always wanted nothing more than a cold glass of water when I would come in from harvesting, so I snuck some ice from Lisa at the Juice Bar. It's the least I can do."

"The gesture is appreciated," Donovan said gratefully.

"I'll be out there with you next year, don't worry," Reina said with a wink. "But thanks for covering for me this--"

A sudden scream and explosion interrupted their conversation; it seemed Hedge Pupil was having a hard time with dinner. Reina smiled sheepishly and excused herself from the room. A few moments later, Donovan heard her loudly berate Hedge Pupil for trying to light the oven with pure sodium. 

Never a dull moment, Donovan thought with a chuckle.

\---

"So just to confirm, Hedge Pupil is an alchemist, right?" Donovan asked Luan the next day as they continued working the fields.

"Oh, a hundred percent," Luan said with a nod. There was nobody around to hear them for miles except a few farmhands, and they were all out of earshot. "I think he got Reina into it, actually."

"Makes sense," Donovan said with a swing of his scythe. The nearby wheat fell at once; he was actually getting kind of good at this.

"Have you ever considered becoming an alchemist?" Luan asked playfully.

Donovan laughed at that. "God no," he said with thinly veiled disgust. "I'm plenty ostracized already, so I see no need to court further disfavor. Besides, I never had much fondness for the practice."

"A shame," Luan said lightheartedly. "I can't help feeling like you missed your calling. Reina showed me her notes once and I couldn't make heads or tails of them, but you were always a faster learner than I was."

"That's not true," Donovan said with a disbelieving chuckle. "And you have a better head for numbers than I do anyway."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, I'm sure Reina or Hedge Pupil would be happy to help," Luan said with a shrug.

"I'll bear that in mind," Donovan said with a hint of sarcasm as he slashed at the field.

They worked in silence for a few minutes.

"That reminds me," Luan said suddenly. "I've been meaning to ask you for a favor."

"What with?" Donovan asked, head down as he focused on his work.

"Well, I'm going to ask Reina to marry me," Luan said shyly.

Donovan froze mid-swing. He tried to ignore how his heart sunk in his chest.

"Do you have a ring?" he asked.

"Not quite, no," Luan said hesitantly. "I talked to Hedge Pupil about it, and he told me about the ring Reina has dreamed about ever since she was a young girl. He says he knows someone who can cast it if I get him the raw materials."

Donovan exhaled slowly. "You mean like raw ore?"

"Well, gold would be ideal," Luan clarified. "But Hedge Pupil said he can use sawdust and mouse skulls to make it, since those are easier to come by."

Donovan returned to harvesting. "How do you plan to collect mouse skulls?"

"That's what I'm not sure about," Luan said with a frown as he tied the next bundle. "Perhaps Chester would know?"

"No, if you ask Chester for mouse skulls, he'll know you're with the alchemists and overcharge you for the rest of your days," Donovan said firmly. "You know what has a lot of mice, don't you? The hideout."

Luan's eyebrows twitched upwards. "You think it's time to visit, then?"

"Unless you have any better ideas," Donovan said with a shrug. "But first we have to finish harvesting this field."

"Fair enough," Luan said with a chuckle as he tied another bundle of wheat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. While researching for this chapter, I came to the realization that Specter Knight's scythe is just the worst. On the one hand, it doesn't have the handle on the side that would let it be used for actual harvesting. On the other hand, it's kind of a garbage martial arts weapon. 
> 
> Check this video for more information https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_fujM6vvgF4, but long story is it's not great lol
> 
> Yeah it's magic, and yeah the Enchantress made the weapon, but Specter has the chance to get a sword from the Lich Yard hideout and doesn't… which means Specter Knight is a nerd and uses an ineffective, impractical weapon because it looks cool lol
> 
> 2\. The toilet thing is a trick question because most people in this world probably don't have them, either using chamber pots or outhouses or something. But we know canonically that the Hedgehog family lives right over the sewers, so it'd be silly if they didn't have a toilet lol
> 
> 3\. Also yeah, Hedge Pupil is being an idiot, life protip don't mess around with pure sodium


	14. Sawdust and Mouse Skulls

"But didn't you just go on a big job?" Reina complained.

"I promise this is for the best," Luan reassured her. "It's just down to the Lich Yard. We'll be back in a day or two."

Outwardly, Reina made a show of pouting theatrically, but Donovan noticed something truly sad in her eyes all the same. 

"Fine," she relented. "But neither of you go drowning this time. I still haven't forgiven either of you for the Iron Whale incident."

Luan laughed. "I promise we will be in little danger of that."

"You better be right," Reina said as she narrowed her eyes.

As Donovan and Luan set off on horseback towards the Lich Yard the next morning, Donovan recognized Reina's sad look as the one he himself had worn when he'd left the hideout.

"I hate to leave her like this," Luan said guiltily as they rode. "Even knowing what this trip is for, it breaks my heart."

"I'm sure she'll forgive you when she finds out," Donovan said gruffly. 

That seemed to brighten Luan's mood somewhat. "I hope so," he said thoughtfully, and Donovan watched his eyes tumble into a daydream of the event. Donovan turned away.

They reached the Lich Yard by midmorning, before the summer rays had begun to beat down too harshly on them. Luan paid a surprised stablemaster to house their horses for a time, and the two set off to the catacombs to do their dreary work.

"I wonder how the hideout has held up?" Luan wondered. It had been a few months, after all. Had enterprising thieves picked through the place at long last?

But as they entered, they found the hideout very much the same as when they'd left it. The entrance was well-hidden, Donovan supposed, and the paltry furniture was untouched.

Months away had heightened Donovan's sensitivity to to the smell of the place, though, and the mildewy odor was always the worst in the summer anyhow. Donovan tightened his scarf around his face in a vain attempt to protect himself from it.

"Same as ever," Luan remarked fondly as he walked through the hideout, casually searching for mouse corpses. Donovan took a strange pride in the fact that they found none here.

"What if we don't find any mouse skulls?" Luan wondered. "Will we need to trap the mice ourselves?"

"If so, I leave the work of killing them and separating them from their skulls to you," Donovan said wryly. "It promises to be an unpleasant task."

Luan raised an eyebrow. "Fair point," he said with a shrug. "Well, maybe we'll get lucky in the other parts of the catacombs."

So they walked down the city to a different segment of the ruins. And another. And another.

As they searched, it became clear that a carrion feeder of some sort must have cleared the place already, though Donovan shuddered to think of what it might be. The two caught occasional glances of mice scurrying to hide in the walls of the catacombs, but no convenient corpses or skeletons for them to loot.

Donovan passed another shelf of human skulls on display. Surely one would not be missed, and surely the sin of desecrating a corpse was lessened by the desecration it had already suffered…

"You're sure it has to be mice skulls?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Luan said with a flabbergasted shrug before resting his head in his hand. "I can't parse the simplest alchemical passage. Hedge Pupil said mouse skulls, but surely other bones are made from the same stuff, right? Bone is bone."

Donovan reached for one of the human skulls, but Luan swatted his hand away.

"No! Perish the thought," Luan said with a shiver. "I can think of no surer way to be haunted by a ghost for the rest of one's life."

"Fine, what do you propose, then?" Donovan asked as he crossed his arms.

Luan leaned against the dull blue brick of the catacomb as he pondered. 

"The butcher," he decided. "The butcher will have bones for sale. We can say it's for soup stock."

"And if it does need to be mice?" Donovan asked.

"Then I'll come back and slaughter half a dozen mice myself if it comes to it," Luan said, sounding a little frustrated. "But if I can avoid that task, all the better, I think."

Rather than ask for bones from the butcher back in the Village, they decided to do it there in the Lich Yard while they were there. The butcher happily obliged in exchange for coin, and Donovan and Luan left with a cheap linen sack full of strangely shaped bones. Donovan wondered with a sickening realization how many of them might mouse bones after all, and what that meant for the butcher's meat offerings…

The horses didn't like the smell of the bag, which was understandable--Donovan wasn't terribly fond of it either. They reared back and had to be coaxed into riding with that scent alongside them. Even so, it didn't take long to get back to the Village. Luan asked for (and received) a few handfuls of sawdust from the carpenter there, and he was ready to go.

"Back already?" Hedge Pupil said with pleasant surprise when Luan walked in. Luan eyed Reina in the kitchen and gestured for Pupil to come outside.

"We had difficulty finding some of the materials," Luan said quietly from the side of the house. "I hope these work as a substitute."

Hedge Pupil looked in the bag with curiosity and laughed. "Oh, these will work fine," he reassured Luan. "Alchemists use mouse skulls because it makes for good pest control! But any old bone will have the calcium and phosphate we need."

Donovan wasn't sure what calcium and phosphate had to do with alchemizing gold, but he'd just have to trust Hedge Pupil on this.

"Now the real fun begins," Hedge Pupil said, laughing maniacally as he ran into the house with the bag.

"Wait, Pupil--" Luan called out as he followed him inside, but Hedge Pupil had already vanished from the house. How did he do that? Must be alchemy nonsense.

Reina narrowed her eyes from the kitchen. "Hedge Pupil just came running by with a bag of something suspicious. Are you two aiding and abetting him in nonsense?"

"No," Luan replied firmly.

"Definitely not," Donovan added.

Reina squinted suspiciously for a moment before returning to the vegetables she'd been chopping. "Whatever it is, just don't blow up the house."

"You have my word," Luan agreed. "Also, is it safe for you to be cutting vegetables in your condition?"

Reina laughed. "I'm pregnant, not stupid," she replied. "If I could cut vegetables before, then I'm sure I can still do it now with a kid in my abdomen."

"Just don't hurt yourself," Luan said, sounding worried.

Reina set down her knife and grabbed his arm. "You're such a worrywart," she said warmly. "I'll be fine."

And then she settled into the embrace of his arms, and Luan looked fondly down at her. There was almost a full 12 inch height difference between them, but neither seemed to mind.

Donovan coughed uncomfortably and went to leave the room.

"No wait, come back!" Reina called, breaking from the embrace. "Donovan! I have some potatoes I need you to peel for supper." She gestured to a bucket of potatoes in the corner.

Donovan said nothing, but he sat down on a nearby stool and set to work on the potatoes.

"And Luan, can you go get some water from the well please?" Reina asked.

Luan gave a casual salute and left the back door. That left only Reina and Donovan in the room. Donovan blithely ignored this fact, focusing instead on the potatoes.

"Donovan, I've been meaning to ask you something," Reina started. Suddenly Donovan realized that this had all been a trap. He clenched his jaw, intent on showing no fear.

"I've noticed that whenever Luan and I touch or show any kind of affection in front of you, you either cough, or turn away, or leave the room," Reina explained. "Why?"

Donovan's face turned stony. He didn't answer.

"At first, I thought it was just affection in general that made you uncomfortable," Reina continued as she blithely chopped her vegetables. "But you aren't like that with other couples. Just Luan and me."

As Donovan peeled his potatoes, his motions grew brash and erratic.

"Do you truly hate me that much?" Reina wondered quietly. "Do you still worry that I mean him ill, even after everything?"

Donovan tossed the peeled potato roughly into its designated bucket, and the sound filled the room like a crash cymbal. "It's not that," he said quietly. 

Reina gazed at him curiously the way she might stare at a puzzle she was trying to solve. Donovan's face burned under her gaze, and he worried that it showed above his scarf.

"If the affection bothers you, we can talk about it," Reina said with a tilt of her head. "I'm sure there's some kind of compromise we could reach."

Of everything in the world, the last thing Donovan wanted was to talk about it, and least of all with her. He didn't respond.

Reina set her knife down. "I always knew you and Luan were a package deal," she sighed, forehead in hand. "You two are inseparable, almost like brothers. I know you're not going anywhere… and neither am I. You and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other moving forward. Please help me make this work."

Donovan's cold, dark eyes locked onto the wall and would not leave it.

"I'll try," he finally mumbled.

Reina smiled gently. "I'll try too, and we'll make this work, alright?"

Donovan didn't respond.

A moment later, Luan returned with the water from the well, and it didn't take long before the potatoes were on the stove, boiling for dinner. And yet Donovan was haunted by his conversation with Reina long after supper had ended.

\---

Donovan lay awake in bed that night, his mind troubled and turbulent.

The rationale was simple: Donovan turned away from Luan and Reina's gestures of affection because they hurt him and made him uncomfortable. If his best efforts to hide that were nevertheless being noticed, then his best wasn't good enough.

For the first time, Donovan asked himself how long he would be able to keep his silence. Was he prepared to spend months or years at it? Decades?

If the answer to that question was no, then Donovan needed to speak now. Before Luan proposed, before he married, before he started a family with someone else…

Donovan shook his head. It was too late for that, god damn it. Even if Donovan was somehow successful in his venture, could he live with himself if he broke their family up before it even started? To bring their unborn child into a broken home, splintered between two people who, in spite of his own wishes, loved each other very much?

What did he dare to hope for from this?

What did he dare to hope for from silence?

Luan was all he had in the world. And for a time, Donovan had been all that Luan had, too. But those times were gone. 

Donovan dragged himself from his covers in his sleeping clothes. He hadn't been doing much sleeping, anyhow. Instead, he put on a scarf and went to the back porch for some fresh air.

The heavy, sweltering summer air was gentler in the night than it was in the height of midday. Donovan stared at the vast fields of wheat and listened to the chirps of crickets and the buzz of gnats. He watched the crescent moon cast its gentle light over it all. 

It was beautiful, but it was not home. What was he doing here?

Donovan didn't know how long he sat out there before he heard footsteps behind him.

"Thought I might find you out here," Luan said, his hair disheveled and his eyes shining in the moonlight. He wore thin gray sleeping clothes in the summer heat, and Donovan could see the gentle curve of his shoulder muscles through them.

Donovan looked away and said nothing.

"Reina told me about your conversation from earlier," Luan said quietly. "I'd never noticed that behavior myself, but she says it's true, and I believe her."

Still Donovan said nothing. 

"There's something you're not telling me," Luan said curiously. "Whatever it is, it's important, and you've never kept anything important from me before. Please, I don't care what it is, I just want to know."

Donovan wanted to melt away into nothingness in that porch chair where he sat, but fate was not so merciful as that.

There was no more running from this. But finding the right words felt impossible.

"I…" Donovan faltered, his eyes wide and vulnerable. The shaking in his hands betrayed him, and Luan gently reached for his shoulder from where he stood. His hand on Donovan's shoulder was a jolt of electricity that threatened to sweep away Donovan's entire attention if he let it.

"It's… harder than I thought it would be," Donovan finally managed. "Seeing you with her, I mean. For so long, we had only each other, you and I. But now…"

"Now you have to share?" Luan guessed with a half-smile.

Donovan sighed. "I suppose so," he mumbled. 

Luan sat down on the chair next to his.

"It sounds childish to say, doesn't it?" Donovan laughed sadly. "Like a petulant toddler who refuses to share his toys. But you're not a toy to be passed about, you're a person with thoughts and feelings who can choose for yourself…"

"Donovan."

Donovan flinched at Luan's voice and went silent. Noticing this, Luan frowned in concern and didn't say whatever he was going to say next.

Instead, they sat in that heavy silence for a long moment.

Eventually, the words burned in Donovan's throat and bubbled up like the foam of a shaken beer bottle, spilling out before he could stop them.

"I care for you, Luan," he said quietly, and there was no taking them back then. "You're the most brilliant strategist I've ever met, and one of the kindest people as well. You smile when you think of a new heist, and your eyes light up when you tell the story after. It's my privilege to be your friend and your partner in crime, and I'll continue to be that for you, for as long as you'll have me… and yet my heart aches to be more. I can't deny it."

Luan blinked in surprise at this. He opened his mouth as though to speak, and closed it just as quickly.

"I know you're with Reina," Donovan continued soberly. "I know you both are expecting a child, and I don't know what I hoped to accomplish by telling you this. But it's true all the same."

Luan puzzled through this silently in his mind, his face inscrutable despite Donovan's desperate attempts to find meaning in it. 

"Perhaps it's best if we don't speak of this again," Donovan mumbled before standing up and rushing inside.

"Donovan--" Luan called out, but Donovan didn't stop.

He'd been stupid. He'd been so stupid. What the hell was he thinking? What did he expect to happen, for Luan to abandon his pregnant girlfriend, soon to be fiancee, and fall into his arms? Donovan plummeted into bed and begged silently for sleep to take him. Perhaps when he woke, this would all be a strange dream, and then things could go back to normal. 

Better the pain he knew than the pain he didn't.

\---

"Fuck," Luan whispered to himself after Donovan left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I know sawdust and mouse skulls are canonically a way of making gold in the Shovelverse, but from a chemistry standpoint, it doesn't really make sense lol. 
> 
> But in a world where proton bombardment was a commercially viable method of producing (non-radioactive) gold, you'd need 4 Carbon atoms, 1 Phosphorous atom, and 2 Calcium atoms to make 1 single atom of gold, and those ingredients can indeed be found in sawdust and bone! So I'll just handwave the rest as magic.
> 
> 2\. Also I'm probably on an extra watch list for looking up the chemical makeup of bone now lol. I'm not a murderer, I'm a writer, I swear
> 
> 3\. Please understand that I tease the canon because I love it. I wouldn't have written this 55k+ word fic if I didn't


	15. The Miracle of Life

Donovan dreaded waking up the next morning, but he did it anyway.

When he left his room, Luan was cooking eggs on the stovetop for breakfast. Donovan's blood ran cold when he saw him. He couldn't face Luan yet. He just couldn't.

"Good morning, Dono--" Reina started from the hallway, but Donovan rushed past her and back into his room, practically slamming the door behind him.

"What's gotten into him?" Reina wondered aloud, her dark eyebrows raising in confusion.

A few minutes later, Donovan burst from his room, grabbed some bread from the pantry, and fled to eat on the back porch without a word to anyone.

Reina stared after him blankly. Luan sighed.

"I'll go talk to him," he said as he walked after him.

Donovan sat hunched over as he ate, all pinched up like a piece of string tied too tightly. When Luan stepped out of the house, Donovan visibly flinched and almost ran for cover.

Luan didn't know what to say just yet, so he just stood there silently as Donovan avoided his gaze. Mindless chatter between Reina and Hedge Farmer filled the porch from indoors.

Hesitantly, Donovan tore off another piece of bread and cautiously stuffed it under his scarf, looking like a child who got caught stealing treats.

Luan's features softened.

"I'm not angry," he said with a gentle smile. "Were you worried I would be?"

Donovan shrugged and tore off another piece of bread, still avoiding his gaze.

Luan glanced at the open window for a moment, aware of the risk that their conversation could be heard inside.

"I won't beleaguer the point too long," Luan finally said. "But I just want you to know that you mean the world to me. I've risked my life for yours, and I'd do it again. Nothing changes that. Nothing. Do you understand?"

Donovan nodded. 

"And… I hope that you can make peace with Reina," Luan said carefully. "She means the world to me, too. I love her, Donovan."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a moment before a fly buzzed by and tried to land on Donovan's bread. Luan swatted it away with a laugh.

"Why don't you come join us inside before the flies eat your breakfast?" he said lightly.

Donovan obliged.

\---

One could never quite tell with Donovan when he was in a bad mood or not, as his overall demeanor tended towards gloom at even the best of times. Even when he laughed at the bar with Luan, some secret sadness weighed at the corner of his eyes, and it never completely left him.

So nobody else in the household was quite sure if his behavior the following weeks was him sulking or not. Hadn't his eyes always been that downcast, his face always so shadowed by his hood? Donovan went about his chores with his usual efficiency, so there was no real way to be sure.

Nothing overtly changed in Donovan's interactions with the rest of the household, except that perhaps Luan and Reina showed less affection in front of him, which he was quietly grateful for.

And yet, perhaps it was his imagination, but to Donovan it felt like the entire atmosphere of the Hedge household had changed. 

He'd said his piece, and Luan had chosen Reina. Donovan wasn't surprised. He'd expected that. But it was a rejection all the same, and it still stung. There could be no more deceiving himself, no more plausible deniability in the fact-- Luan had made his choice.

And here Donovan was afterward.

\---

Other than that, things continued as they always had in their simple routine. Donovan kept busy with chores and farm work, in his own rustic way. Luan did the same. So it was that those blithe summer days passed by, with Donovan in the fields as the season grew plump and heavy on the vine, ready to ripen into fall at any moment.

It was on one such day that Hedge Farmer asked Donovan to go gather the grapes from the garden, which he did.

He sat on the ground, basket beside him, and silently went about his task. Perhaps if he'd made more noise, he wouldn't have witnessed what happened next. 

But as it happened, Luan and Reina walked out the back door, and Donovan assumed they had seen him, so he ignored them. They walked past the berry bushes in the garden, out of sight from Donovan, but not out of earshot.

Then Luan started to speak.

"Reina, you're probably wondering why I brought you out here," he said with a chuckle.

"Very much so," Reina said with light-hearted curiosity.

"Well, you told me once that your favorite place in the world was this bench during the autumn, when the sunflowers were in bloom," Luan continued. "So it seemed as suitable a place as any."

"Suitable for what, exactly?" Reina asked.

Donovan heard the sound of Luan stepping up from the bench and kneeling to the ground. 

Oh god. Donovan couldn't leave without creating a scene, so he sat there in perfect silence as he pretended not to hear what was happening a few dozen feet away.

Reina gasped.

"Reina, I love you more than my mind can say," Luan continued. "I am committed to you, our child, and our future together, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it if you'll let me. Will you marry me?"

The air was so still that Donovan could hear Reina's tiny exhale.

"Luan, I'm speechless," she said with a tiny surprised laugh. "I…"

Then her voice faltered, and she went silent.

"I love you," she said, "but I'm not ready. We've known each other for less than a year, for pete's sake! And when I say yes someday, I want it to be with my whole heart, with no reservations."

The scraping on the ground indicated that Luan had stood up.

"I… understand," he said, with only the tiniest, most graceful hint of disappointment. "And I'll wait as long as you need."

"Besides," Reina added, "it's hard to plan a wedding while pregnant. I can barely walk over here! Ask me again later when I'm not full of crazy hormones."

Luan laughed and offered his arm to her, which she clung to tightly as she walked back inside. She was some eight months pregnant by now, and walking seemed to be a bit of a chore for her now. She certainly wouldn't be riding horses or climbing ladders any time soon.

"By the way, that ring is absolutely gorgeous," Reina gushed. "How did you get it?? Did Pupil help?"

Luan started telling the whole story as they closed the door behind them. By some stroke of luck, they failed to notice Donovan on their way in. So Donovan continued picking grapes, unsure what to think about what he had just witnessed.

\---

After dinner, as the sun was setting, Donovan set to work scrubbing the dishes from dinner. He found himself grateful that he only had to wash one fork per person. 

Hedge Farmer was out in the fields finishing some weeding while it was light out, and Luan and Reina were still inside, probably cleaning something or other. That left Donovan by himself for a moment.

A passing breeze shook the hood of his cloak. It was the first chill Donovan had felt in months, so autumn must be on its way. And if he squinted, perhaps he could see traces of yellow on the leaves of the oak trees that lined the property.

After a moment, Luan walked out the back door.

"Donovan," he said. "I've been looking for you."

"What for?" Donovan asked.

Luan sat down next to him, taking in the sunset.

"I just thought I'd let you know that I proposed, and she said no," he said with simple matter-of-factness and an undertone of sadness.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Donovan said sympathetically. "Did she say why?"

"She said she needed more time," Luan sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Which I'm happy to give her, but I thought we were… in the same place," he finished awkwardly.

"She'll come around," Donovan replied. "Any fool could see how happy you two make each other."

"I hope so," Luan said wistfully. "I love her so much, and I just want her to be happy…" Then he suddenly coughed uncomfortably. "Sorry, that's probably not what you want to hear, I mean, given what you said earlier… Um..." Luan's face flickered equally between confusion and embarrassment as he fumbled with his words.

"It's fine," Donovan said brusquely, mostly to move the conversation forward.

Luan laughed clumsily. "All these times I've talked like that in front of you… God, I've made such an ass of myself."

"You didn't know," Donovan said stiffly. "I went to lengths to hide it."

Luan gave a faint smile. "Fair enough."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"When is Reina due, again?" Donovan asked, changing the subject. "It must be getting close."

"In a few weeks, according to the midwife," Luan answered.

"You'll make a great dad," Donovan said reassuringly. "And if you need help with the kid, I'll be here for you."

"Hey, I appreciate it," Luan said with a smile. "We'll see if you regret that when the kid's screaming at 2 in the morning."

Donovan scoffed. "I think I can win a battle of wills against an infant," he said confidently. "In fact, I welcome it to try me."

Luan laughed.

\---

The weeks passed into mid-autumn, and Reina's due date came and passed.

Reina took the child's late arrival in stride, although she jokingly complained about it to anyone who'd listen. And although she could barely stand and certainly couldn't help in the fields, she made a dutiful attempt to make dinner for the household each day.

Four days after her due date, Donovan put his foot down.

"What's that smell?" Reina asked as she cautiously and painfully walked from her room one afternoon.

"This is stock," Donovan answered as he sliced an assortment of vegetables and herbs. "It's for dinner later tonight."

Reina snorted. "You, cooking dinner? Should I be worried?"

"Who do you think did the cooking at the hideout?" Donovan replied. "It definitely wasn't Luan."

Reina raised her eyebrows. "Point taken," she said knowingly. "For someone so skilled with a sword, you'd think he could cut vegetables without hurting himself."

Donovan snickered. "Years of being fussed over by serving staff meant he could barely boil water when I first met him. He's come a long way."

"I suppose so," Reina said wryly. She eyed the kitchen like a hawk searching for errors in Donovan's food preparation, but found none.

"Go sit down," he ordered, shooing her away with his hand. "I don't need you hovering over me while I work."

Reina laughed and relented, leaving to sit in the rocking chair in the living room.

"I'm perfectly capable of making dinner, you know," she said indignantly.

"Everyone knows that," Donovan replied in a no-nonsense tone. "Regardless, I'm giving you the day off."

Reina sat back in the rocking chair, and for a moment, her usual joking, theatrical aura left her.

"Well, I appreciate it," she said humbly. "And everything else you've done these last several months. I know you're really just here for Luan, but thank you all the same."

Donovan shrugged. "You're important to Luan, and that makes you important to me, too. It's like you said-- we'll be seeing a lot of each other moving forward."

Reina gave a small smile.

"Besides," he added, "I couldn't stand seeing you meander about the kitchen in your condition. You looked like you were about to fall over at any second."

Reina wrinkled her nose. "Oh, that's it," she said, clumsily standing up. "Now I'm coming over to help out of principle."

"You'll do no such thing," Donovan said, brandishing a frying pan like a sword as he defended the kitchen from her advances.

Before they knew it, the two of them were laughing as they playfully squabbled.

\---

"Noodles again?" Luan said with a good-natured sigh.

"You shut your mouth, this is delicious," Reina said with her mouth full.

The other faces around the table nodded in agreement, and Donovan felt a beam of pride.

"It's just that noodles are all Donovan ever seems to make," Luan shrugged. "Boil some water, put some noodles in. It's not so hard."

"Wrong on every count," Donovan countered. "I made the broth from scratch, and it took hours on the stovetop to get to where it is now. I also purchased fresh vegetables from the market, and even splurged on meat for it."

"Don't listen to him, Donovan, this is fabulous work," Hedge Pupil said with delight as he sipped the broth.

Luan raised his hands in defeat. "Fine, I admit this batch is better than most," he admitted. "It's no steak and potatoes, but it's passable."

"Passable, he says," Hedge Farmer grumbled. "Donovan, you're free to make this dish anytime you want. If Luan wants to be a high-and-mighty food critic over there, then that's all the more for the rest of us!"

Luan rolled his eyes as everyone else at the table laughed. But the laughter was interrupted by a sharp inhale of pain from Reina, who gripped the end of the table tightly as she winced.

Luan flinched in her direction the way he always did when he noticed her in distress.

"It's just a contraction," Reina said through gritted teeth. "It'll pass in a moment, just like the rest of them."

"Should we call the midwife?" Luan asked.

After a moment, Reina's grip on the table relaxed, and she took a deep breath.

"No," she replied. "When we call the midwife, they'll lock me in a dark room until my darling passenger enters the world, and that'll be the last you see of me until the deed is done. Spare me that fate a little longer, won't you?"

Luan frowned in concern.

"Besides, the contractions are still seven minutes apart. It's not time yet," Reina said with a tired smile.

"Alright, alright, enough pregnancy talk-- I'm eating over here!" Hedge Farmer said irritably.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," Reina sarcastically. "I do apologize if my creating and carrying a new human disturbs your meal."

"Well, I beg your pardon if I want to enjoy my noodles in peace," Hedge Farmer shot back, sounding every bit like the bickering sibling he was.

"Alright, break it up, you two," Hedge Pupil said, waving a fuzzy hand between them. 

They did finish their meal in peace after that. Then the hedgehogs set to cleaning up after supper, and Donovan retired to his favorite chair on the porch.

That left Luan and Reina to themselves on the couch in the main room, and Donovan heard occasional winces of pain from inside the house.

"Ok, now it's time to call the midwife," Reina announced some time later.

\---

The house filled with people soon after that. The middle-aged midwife came in first, followed by a young green-skinned girl who she said was here to observe. Lisa the Juice Maid followed not long after, and Reina's room was quickly converted into a birthing haven. In customary fashion, no men were allowed in, and quite frankly, Donovan was fine with that. He wanted nothing to do with the biological processes that were about to happen behind the door, and he happily waited on the couch in the living room for further news.

Luan, however, was a nervous wreck.

"I wish I could be there," he murmured quietly from the seat beside Donovan. "They won't tell me what's happening. What if something goes wrong?"

"Worrying yourself to death won't help anything," Donovan said firmly. "Whatever happens from here is out of your hands. Please try to relax."

Luan breathed deeply in and out a few times, but his fidgeting betrayed his nerves.

"How long can this take?" Luan muttered.

"Anywhere between two minutes to 73 hours, but usually between 5-20 hours," Donovan answered, thinking back to Reina's crash course on biology. Unfortunately for him, he did in fact remember most of it.

Luan leaned his head back on the couch, despair in his eyes. "And I suppose I can do nothing but wait until then," he said morosely.

"Perhaps you need a distraction," Donovan suggested. "A walk to the porch, or perhaps a game of cards?"

Luan shook his head. "I can think of nothing else. Donovan, what if she dies in there? Or the child? Pregnancy is infamously dangerous. God, what have I done…"

Donovan sighed. "It can happen, but we have no reason to believe it will here."

Luan shook his head distantly, clearly unconvinced.

"I know little about these things, but I do know that my mother died in childbirth," Donovan said quietly. "But she was sick almost right from the beginning, and plagued with problems throughout. By comparison, Reina is not sick. Her midwife said nothing about this being a dangerous pregnancy. Please take heart and do not fear the worst before it has happened."

Luan stared at the ground for a long moment.

"Perhaps a game of cards isn't such a bad idea," he admitted.

\---

They played several distracted games of cards to pass the time. As evening turned to nightfall and midnight, the hours wore away at Luan's stamina, and he looked worse for wear. 

Eventually Donovan coaxed him into sleeping for a few hours, promising to wake him if there were any developments, but there were none apart from Lisa fetching water and cloths. When Luan woke a few hours later, Donovan took a turn sleeping. It was just like when they would take watches through the night while traveling, he mused.

Throughout this process, muffled noises could be heard from the birthing room every so often-- a wince, a grunt, some heavy breathing. Lisa's authoritative voice could be heard as well, reassuring Reina that she was doing well. 

And then, after a long and restless night, the sun rose and the house filled with the cries of a newborn child.

Luan shot up from his seat on the couch and sprinted towards the room. Donovan followed cautiously behind, careful to give him space.

Luan fidgeted at the doorknob, only to find it locked. He knocked impatiently at the door.

"Back off," the midwife barked from inside. 

"Oh, he's waited long enough, hasn't he?" Reina said from the room, her voice devoid of all energy.

Luan knocked again, and he looked ready to break down the door if the midwife kept him out any longer.

"Just a minute!" Lisa called back. "It's really quite a mess in here. I'll be right out with the little one when I'm done cleaning."

And true to her word, she did.

"It's a boy," Lisa said cheerfully, holding a bundle of blankets with a tiny face poking out. "Reina wants to name him Reize."

She handed the bundle to Luan, and there in the hallway, Luan met his son.

To Donovan, the child resembled nothing so much as a wrinkled red potato. But his cowlicked hair was the same steely blue as his father's, and he had the same round face as his mother. His dark eyes stared out at the ceiling as he accustomed himself to the world around him.

Judging by the look on Luan's face, he saw nothing less than an angel fallen to earth and entrusted to his care. He smiled faintly, his eyes full of awe as he stared at the tiny person before him.

The baby yawned and stuck his tiny hand out from the blanket. Luan gently touched the baby's palm. Tiny Reize curled his hand around Luan's finger.

Luan laughed slightly, his eyes wet.

A moment later, he carried the bundle into the room and sat next to Reina in the bed. Reina looked worn out, but her eyes shined with pride as she caressed Reize's face with her finger. Luan's hand held hers as they gazed tenderly at their little one.

Donovan's eyes crinkled in a smile, and he politely left to give the happy family some privacy.

\---

"Do you want to hold him?" Luan asked Donovan some time later.

Donovan's eyes went wide with panic, as he felt sure he would drop the child if he did.

"Just sit down and I can hand him to you," Luan suggested as though he read Donovan's mind. Donovan hesitantly agreed.

The bundle was more blanket than baby, and bulkier than he expected. Tiny Reize barely seemed to notice that he'd been passed along to someone else, preferring instead to stare out with that innocent, wondering expression of his.

Donovan awkwardly cradled the bundle in his arms like it was made of glass, worried he might break it if he looked at it wrong. He stared at the child with curiosity. What a miracle it was--this child hadn't been here the day before, hadn't existed at all nine months ago, and now here he was. What kind of future would this child lead, he wondered? What kind of life and experiences would he have? 

Staying with Luan meant that Donovan would also have the privilege of watching this child grow. He had never considered himself to be a terribly nurturing person, but he looked forward to seeing it all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. iirc an official Yacht Club AMA said that Donovan's favorite food was noodles, which I've referenced a few times. In this case, I took "noodles" to mean Pho, which is delicious when you make it from scratch, by the way)  
> 2\. Also the whole "dark room and no men allowed" was apparently historically accurate for medieval times, so that's why that happened lol  
> 3\. Also please welcome Reize to the cast of characters in this story :> Tag to be added shortly


	16. A Brief Moment of Joy

For that one moment, the Hedge household was filled with joy at this new arrival.

The hedgehog brothers each had the chance to hold the child next. Each remarked in turn how the child resembled his mother. Reina laughed and joked with them. 

The occupants of the house held that moment close to their hearts, but the grains of time slipped through their fingers as they so often do.

And when that moment ended not long later, tragedy struck. 

At first, Reina mentioned a headache and chest pain. When the midwife and her young assistant arrived, they checked her blood pressure and found it to be dangerously low. The midwife kicked everyone else out of the room to try to treat her. Shortness of breath followed soon after; Reina said she felt ill and quickly fell into a coma.

In a different time and place, this illness would be known as an amniotic fluid embolism, a rare, quick-onset, and often fatal complication of childbirth. But nobody in the household knew that. All they knew is that one moment, Reina was talking and laughing with them as she held her child. 

And less than an hour later, despite the midwife's desperate attempts to save her, she disappeared from their lives, leaving a void that could never be filled.

\---

Nothing was ever the same after that. How could it be? It all happened so fast. The pain of the event radiated in waves from the epicenter, catching everyone in its path, and a cloud of grief descended on the household.

Hedge Farmer and Hedge Pupil mourned, for they had lost their sister. They arranged the funeral and burial, and Donovan could bring himself to attend neither. Hedge Pupil disappeared from the house more often after that, and Hedge Farmer buried himself in the work of the farm's harvest season, leaving the household feeling emptier in their absence.

A weight settled over Luan's eyes after that. Gone was the idealistic youth he had shown before, for now he carried responsibility and had tasted grief. He laughed less, smiled more rarely, and spoke more quietly. He dutifully learned to perform the required tasks of fatherhood, and sometimes when he looked at Reize, he almost looked like his old self... but never entirely so.

Donovan became swallowed up not just by grief, but by misplaced guilt and shame as well. He wasn't heartless, and Reina had been his friend, too. They'd laughed together at the Juice Bar and ridden horseback to and from the Lich Yard. She'd bartered for his life in front of Luan's deranged uncle. Even now, Donovan half expected her to ask him to peel some more potatoes for dinner at any moment, and the thought that he'd never hear her do that again was difficult to accept.

The house felt quiet and hollow without her wit, and the remaining occupants moved through the space silently and joylessly like tin automatons-- save tiny Reize, who did not yet understand what he had lost, and perhaps never fully would.

\---

It took months before Luan could bring himself to sort through her belongings.

His eyes sagged under the weight of grief and sleep deprivation, as Reize demanded all of the little remaining energy he possessed. His hair and beard grew longer than he usually kept them as haircuts fell by the wayside. And while the task of housecleaning threatened to injure the fragile stability he had built, so too did the painful reminders of her scattered throughout the house.

As any good friend would, Donovan offered his support and aid in this task. Hedge Farmer was more reluctant, though.

"Must we do this now?" he asked in a thin, pained voice. "We can't leave them as they are?"

Luan's tired eyes sauntered downwards at the pile he had gathered on the living room floor. "I can't bear to look at them day in and day out," he said with a catch in his throat. "We don't need to get rid of them, but I beg you to let me store them elsewhere."

Hedge Farmer nodded solemnly.

"Perhaps…" Hedge Pupil started before faltering. "Perhaps it's best we get it done with all at once. If we know none of us will need her dresses again, then we can spare ourselves the pain of handling them twice…"

Here Hedge Pupil reached for the green gown at the top of the pile, and Luan's eyes went wide.

"Not that one," he murmured. "It was the dress she wore to that dance she invited me to…"

His teary eyes shined in the light from outdoors, and Hedge Pupil respectfully set it down.

"How about her makeup, then?" Donovan suggested, trying to keep a stiff upper lip through this for the others. "It's unlikely we can give it away since it's used. Perhaps we can throw it away?"

The group murmured in assent.

"And these books?" Donovan asked.

"I'll take those," Hedge Pupil volunteered. "The world lost a fine budding alchemist in Reina, but I'll make sure her writing is taken care of properly."

Suddenly an infant's crying interrupted the conversation.

"It seems Reize has finished his nap," Luan said as he stood up. "I'll be back in a moment."

As he left to take care of Reize, Donovan rifled through the belongings and located a book that wasn't stacked with the others. He curiously pulled it out and flipped through its handwritten pages…

His eyes went wide. This was Reina's diary. He dropped it like it had burned his flesh, and an envelope inside it scattered to the floor.

Farmer and Pupil looked over curiously as Donovan picked up the envelope. On the outside was written, in pristine calligraphy, the words "To my dearest Reize."

Donovan froze as he held the envelope.

"What is it?" Luan asked as he carried Reize, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw it.

"We have to open it, don't we?" Farmer said solemnly. "These could be some of the last words she ever wrote…"

"Ought we not save the letter for the boy when he comes of age?" Donovan countered.

"I think Luan gets the final decision," Pupil suggested.

Luan gently took the letter from Donovan's hand. It had no wax seal binding it closed, merely one flap of the envelope tucked into the other. Luan opened it and read the letter for a long moment, and by the end, his eyes brimmed with tears.

"I'll ensure Reize receives it when he comes of age," he said with a tremor in his voice.

"Please," Farmer said humbly. "What does it say?"

Luan laughed sadly. "It's a letter about how much she loves him and looks forward to raising him," he said, choking up. "I… need to take a break from this. Excuse me."

\---

After several such sessions, they did eventually pare down Reina's belongings to a single cedar chest, which Luan packed away into the closet of his room. Close enough to be in reach, but far enough away to not inflame his grief each passing moment.

Meanwhile, Reize still wasn't sleeping through the night. Almost like clockwork, the child would wake in the dead of night and scream for attention. Donovan had always been something of a light sleeper, and the noise from the next room over woke him every time. 

One night, as Luan slowly muddled from his bed to attend him, Donovan barged right into the room and grabbed the kicking infant from his crib. Luan looked up with sleepy confusion. 

"Go back to sleep," Donovan told Luan, cradling the infant's head carefully. "I have this."

Luan, god help him, was too tired to argue, so he didn't. He collapsed into bed and was fast asleep before Donovan even left the room.

Donovan's initial shyness at holding the infant was gone; there was no time for that now. Leaning Reize's head on his arm, he went to the pantry.

Without Reina to keep the child fed, Hedge Pupil kept the pantry stocked with a substance he called baby formula, and Luan insisted on using it over cow's milk or other substitutes. Donovan lit his lantern and rifled through until he found some before one-handedly warming some water on the stove.

Even despite being held, Reize whimpered in his arm, and the poor thing was probably hungry. Donovan had watched Luan prepare the formula enough times to know how it went. He heated the water, tested its temperature with his wrist, and stirred the powdered formula into the pot.

Hedge Pupil had also provided a collection of glass bottles for feeding, though where they came from and who made them was a mystery. Donovan selected one and carefully poured the formula in. The spigot of the bottle released only a small amount of formula at a time, and Reize fed happily from it.

Of course, it wasn't long after that an unpleasant smell wafted off the baby, and that needed to be dealt with as well.

\---

It was the first, but not the last time, that Donovan stepped in to help with Reize.

Reize wasn't Donovan's child, and Donovan's affection for the boy hardly exceeded mild curiosity. When Reize screamed in the middle of the night, sometimes it was barely even that. But Donovan was loyal to Luan, and Luan needed the help. 

Luan could perform all of the individual duties, from feeding to diaper changes to bathtime, without a problem. But taken as a whole and with barely any breaks, and in Reina's absence, the burden clearly weighed on him. Donovan couldn't stand to see Luan suffer like that, so he did what he could. 

The one thing that could be said for their efforts was that between Luan, Donovan, and the hedgehogs, the child never went without love. It was the one household resource available in ample supply. 

As the days bled into each other and the chill of winter set in, Donovan and Luans' funding waned. Reina's burial costs had taken their toll, and without Reina's alchemy pay, the hedgehogs couldn't be as lenient towards Donovan and Luans' rent as they otherwise might have. Donovan started running small thieving jobs by himself to stave off death's door.

But when the last of their reserves nevertheless dwindled away into rent and food, it was time for a frank conversation with the hedgehogs.

\---

Even with a fire in the hearth, the house grew a little chilly in the winter, so Luan kept Reize bundled up in warm blankets most of the time. Right now, the blanketed child cooed happily in Luan's arms as the grownups sat in the living room.

"We need to talk about next month's rent," Donovan said seriously.

Hedge Farmer fidgeted guiltily. He knew how hard things had been for Luan, and he had done what he could to postpone this day. Nevertheless, here they were.

"In order for us to make rent, Luan and I will need to do another job," Donovan continued. "Both of us, at the same time, for at least a few days."

Hedge Farmer narrowed his eyes.

"I know all about what a job means for the two of you," he said gravely. "Is that the kind of example you want to set for your son, Luan?"

Luan flinched like he'd been punched in the face, and he looked down at Reize guiltily. But Donovan wasn't deterred.

"Fine. If that's how you want to handle this, then let me be perfectly clear," Donovan said with an edge to his voice as he leaned forward. "We have the option of moving back to the Lich Yard with Reize so Luan can raise him there. If we did that, how long would you be able to make payments on the farm, exactly?"

It was a low blow, but no lower than Luan had been dealt. Hedge Farmer blinked nervously, but his pride wasn't so depleted that he'd give in that easily.

"We have savings from the fall harvest," Hedge Farmer said in an aloof voice. Hedge Pupil coughed quietly.

"Long enough to last you until spring?" Donovan asked coldly.

Hedge Pupil exhaled sharply, cutting off Farmer before he could speak. "If you leave for the Lich Yard, you'll have no one to watch the child," Pupil said with brusque worry. "It's better that he stay here with family nearby, isn't it?"

"Pupil…" Farmer warned, but Pupil shot him a look. 

"Look, we need the rent money," Pupil admitted with humiliation. "Tax season approaches, and our margins are tighter without Reina's income. And I know Farmer would sooner die than see his nephew taken from him."

Farmer glared at him but said nothing to deny the fact.

"Leave Reize with us. I'll watch the child myself if I have to," Pupil volunteered.

"That's absurd," Farmer muttered. "I won't have the child getting hurt by your godforsaken alchemist equipment. I'll watch him."

Luan's face softened. "I thank you for it," he said humbly. 

But Hedge Farmer's face remained a hard, stony line. "I'll make myself clear as well," he said with uncompromising resolve. "You have a responsibility, Luan. This child depends on you to come home after your trips. Do not make my nephew an orphan."

The old Luan would have laughed off those concerns as absurd, but Luan seemed to have aged several years in the past few months of caring for Reize. 

"I'll do everything in my power not to let that happen," Luan said solemnly, with gravity beyond his 19 years of age.

Hedge Farmer nodded with begrudging acceptance. "I wish I could convince the two of you to find a new profession," he admitted with defeat, "but Pupil is right. We can't afford to be choosy right now. Even so… please don't do anything cruel."

Luan nodded. "We won't."

Reize made a tiny noise, and Luan shuffled him over to his other arm, bouncing him slightly. 

"He really does look so much like her," Hedge Farmer remarked quietly. "Look at his face. He's the spitting image of his mother when she was that age."

Hedge Pupil smiled fondly. "He really is."

Reize yawned and turned his tiny head to the side, oblivious to the conversation above him. 

Luan stared at Reize for a long moment, his eyes distant and filled with sorrow. Reina was gone, and this child was her parting legacy. Luan gently stroked the infant’s face, tracing the angle of his tiny cheeks, staring long and hard into his eyes as though Luan could find something of Reina in them.

He didn’t, of course, but he found something else, and new resolve crossed Luan’s face. Whatever this child needed, whatever Luan needed to do for him, he would do it. Whether it was crossing the icy fields near the Stranded Ship or the fiery depths of the volcano, he would do it. And if that meant leaving the child for a few days to keep him fed, he would do it.

Luan’s face settled into a hard line, and he stood up from the couch.

"We should prepare for the journey," he said to Donovan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you remember that Major Character Death tag? Yeah...
> 
> I'm sorry about this. I really, really am. I set out to write a canon-compliant fic, and I still intend to do so. When we look at the canon, a few details are clear:
> 
> 1\. Reize came from somewhere, so he presumably had a mother at some point  
> 2\. I'm not aware of any text from Reize, Luan, Donovan, or even the hedgehogs that mentions her at all  
> 3\. When Reize is in danger at the end of Showdown, he seeks comfort from the following, in order: Hedge Farmer, Donovan, and Luan. He doesn't cry out for his mom and she doesn't appear in the scene. So the reasonable conclusion is that she is not in his life.
> 
> So unfortunately, Reize's mom was always going to make an exit from this fic before Reize became old enough to remember her. As a writer, I had a choice to either have her leave willingly or unwillingly. I didn't want to write the kind of character who would leave willingly. And since the only canon thing we know about Reize's mom is that she gave birth, that left this.
> 
> I'll be honest, I like writing for Reina, and if these were my characters in my own setting without the canon-compliant restriction, I might have rewritten it so she lives. But for the story I'm telling here, I couldn't have that.
> 
> I'm aware of the tropes surrounding fridging female characters, and I want you to know that I didn't make this choice cheaply or lightly. I'm also keenly aware that Specter of Torment's canon has few prominent female characters, and fewer still that Donovan would have known during the time period of this fic. Removing Reina from the story furthers this gender imbalance, and I'll do what I can to address this moving forward.
> 
> In spite of all that, I'm still sorry.


	17. Another New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick content warning: this chapter contains content related to violence and substance abuse.
> 
> I keep things as brief as possible and within the bounds of a T-rating. But if you're concerned about the specifics, you can check the end notes for more specific content warnings, though there are chapter spoilers as well.

A few days later, Donovan and Luan hit the road, searching for a safe, easy job with a good payout. Unfortunately, such jobs didn't exist, but they'd take what they could get, even if it meant a long, cold hike through the wintry landscape.

Hedge Farmer never offered the family horses to them, and neither Donovan nor Luan asked. Taking care of the beasts on the road would be a liability anyhow. So they took off on foot in the direction of the mountain.

Of all the locations they'd visited, the mountain was the closest thing to a reliable source of income. It had jewels and riches to spare, and in terms of defenses, there was just Mole Knight, who neither Luan nor Donovan was particularly afraid of.

Or at least, that's how it had been in the past. This time, they encountered a different scene entirely.

What had previously been a peaceful mountainside was now a noisy, bustling construction zone teeming with workers. Huge holes and machinery littered the snow-covered land, and distant noise polluted the afternoon air as Donovan and Luan approached.

They both stared at the scene in shock.

"Things have certainly changed here," Luan said numbly.

"A pity. This was always a reliable location," Donovan said, his irritation masking his sorrow.

A giant crevasse bored into the snow-covered earth like an open wound, revealing layers of rock and architecture underneath. A dark-clad minion with a gold faceplate emerged from it, carrying a bag teeming with gems.

"More wealth for the ever-deserving king," Donovan seethed. "Hedge Farmer's taxes are not enough to fill his vaults, it would seem."

"Let's just go," Luan said testily. "Surely we've wasted enough time here already, haven't we?"

"Where do you propose we go next?" Donovan asked bitterly. "The next safest location is likely the Plains of Passage, which are nowhere nearby. So unless you want to try your luck at the Stranded Ship, which would be suicidal at this time of year, this is probably still our best bet."

Luan looked conflicted for a moment, but then he shook his head.

"I can't," he said with defeat. "Getting into a fight with these soldiers is too dangerous. Not with Reize at home."

Donovan frowned. "Surely you don't intend to fight the Iron Whale salvaging in the ocean? If not that, what other choice do we have?"

Luan exhaled sharply, his breath fogging the chilly mountain air. "I don't know," he admitted. "Perhaps we can find something in the Armor Outpost?"

"We can try," Donovan said with a sigh. It was as good of a plan as any he could come up with.

They reached the Outpost a few hours later as evening fell, and they were about to scout out available inns when a voice called out to them on the street:

"Luan, is that you?"

Luan turned around. "Darragh?"

Donovan stared for a moment as he tried to place the person in front of him. Then he nodded in recognition. This was Luan's brother, who Reina had tricked into letting her into his home. His clothes were far less wealthy-looking now, but he still looked ever so similar to Luan.

"It's been some time, Luan," Darragh said with an easygoing grin. The two exchanged a brief embrace on the street.

The three of them got drinks at a nearby tavern, during which time Darragh told his tale.

After the Seatlan Winery had been sold, all six of the other Seatlan brothers had been thrown onto the street with a pittance of money to get them started. With little in the way of life or work experience, they had run into some trouble, some of it circumstantial and some self-inflicted. Niall, for example, had gotten a job at an onion farm, but he complained of blisters a few hours in and quit soon thereafter. Similar difficulties plagued the others.

"What about you?" Luan asked. "Have you been alright?"

"I knew enough about wines to get a job as a bartending assistant," Darragh replied simply. "It's far more heavy lifting than I was accustomed to, but I'm better off than the others! And in better shape, too."

Luan laughed. "I'm glad you're alright. I feared that you approached me to ask for money, but I have nothing to give."

Darragh chuckled knowingly. "If you see Cearney, steer well clear-- he has only become more of a debtor since this whole thing happened. But it so happens that I am interested in reconnecting with my long-lost brother, seeing as you came and left last year while I was asleep in a drunken stupor."

Drunken stupor indeed, Donovan thought. Certainly not Reina's divedrake venom. Donovan elected to keep that detail to himself at this juncture.

"I suppose I did," Luan said sheepishly.

"And with nothing so much as a mailing address!" Darragh clicked his teeth as he shook his head. "No, this won't do. I'll give you my address, and I expect you to keep in touch moving forward."

Luan chuckled and rubbed the side of his face. "Very well," he said appeasingly. "Did I mention that this is Donovan? This is Donovan. He's my friend."

"Hello," Donovan said abruptly.

"Pleased to meet you," Darragh said amiably. "Thanks for keeping an eye on this knucklehead for me. He's not as much of a dullard as he seems."

Luan playfully jabbed him in the arm. "Donovan, this is my brother Darragh. Usually he's not this much of an ass."

"Ooh, got a bit of a mouth there since you left, haven't you?" Darragh laughed. "Hardly befitting a noble family such as ours. But don't worry, I won't snitch to uncle."

The two bickered jokingly for a moment, and Donovan chuckled to himself. 

As the laughter died down, Darragh looked oddly at his brother. "I can tell the last few years were hard on you," he said seriously. "Perhaps years on the street robbed you of the youthful innocence you had when you left. I'm sorry for that."

"You're one to talk!" Luan laughed. "I've never seen you with bags under your eyes in my life."

"Alright, I confess I had a more difficult time adjusting to working life than I alluded to," Darragh admitted. "But you're deflecting again."

"Am I, now?" Luan said distantly. "A lot's happened."

"Feel free to tell me about it, if you like," Darragh said with a shrug.

And they did, Luan and Donovan together, right from the beginning in the armory when they met. A few times Donovan thought Luan would cut the tale short to save on time, but Darragh was such an enthralled audience member that Luan started dilly-dallying with silly side tales, much to Donovan's amusement. A few drinks disappeared in the telling of them.

The evening drew into night as the tales continued, and Donovan realized that this was the first time in months that he'd seen Luan in any kind of cheerful mood. And though the steeliness had returned to his eyes when he reached the end of the story and Reina's death, it was a reassurance to see that side of Luan once more, however briefly.

"So you have a kid now, do you?" Darragh laughed. "Your kid can have playdates with some of Niall's, then. Except not really, because all of his children are terrors."

"Niall has kids?" Luan said in shock.

"Yes, err... with a few different mothers," Darragh said delicately. "He's been a bit of a homewrecker, that one."

Luan nodded once. "I see," he said, his voice slurring slightly from the alcohol.

"Well, if you ever bring young Reize out this way, I'd be happy to meet him," Darragh said cheerfully. "As it stands, I should head home, since I work early tomorrow. I'd invite you over to stay the night if I could, but sadly my accommodations are barely sufficient for one."

"Don't worry about it," Luan said easily.

"Still, to thank you for the evening and conversation, drinks are on me," Darragh said with a wink. "You two take care now."

And then he paid and walked off, leaving Luan and Donovan at the tavern booth.

"He seems nice enough," Donovan shrugged.

"Darragh was always harmless," Luan shrugged. "A bit of an airhead, but then so was I. He seems a lot more down to earth now. And... well, perhaps so am I."

"Adversity will do that to a person," Donovan said off-handedly.

"Is that what happened to you?" Luan joked. The evening's alcohol had loosened his tongue, so he kept going. "Is that why you're so dour all the time, Donovan? Got caught stealing once and now everything's doom and gloom forever?"

Donovan's face turned stony, and he didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he stood up to leave.

"Donovan?" Luan laughed, perhaps too intoxicated to realize the impact his words had on his friend.

\---

With Luan as drunk as he was, camping out that night would be inadvisable. That was fine by Donovan; he was happy to spend a night away from the cold. They didn't have an abundance of funds for the trip, but they had enough for one stay at the inn, so Donovan secured a room.

Donovan wasn't nearly as drunk; he'd had less to drink and had drunk it slower. While his reflexes were slowed, he had enough wherewithal to steer the far drunker Luan into their inn room.

"Drink this," Donovan snapped, handing him a canteen of water. "We don't have time for you to spend tomorrow hung over."

"It'll be fine," Luan said, and the way he slurred his words told Donovan that it would likely not be fine.

"Just do it," Donovan said sharply, and Luan flinched in surprise before obeying.

"Good grief, I'm doing it already," Luan said irritatedly as he downed the canteen. Then he lay back in bed.

"A whole night of sleep without interruption," Luan said dreamily a few minutes later. "In a bed, not camping!"

"I know," Donovan said patiently. Luan had a tendency to become charmingly silly when he was drunk. It was sweet in its way.

"Reize is so loud," Luan continued in his intoxicated state. "I love him, but he needs something all the time. I don't get a break. Reina was supposed to help, but she's gone, and I miss her."

Here Luan sniffled. "Why'd she have to go? It's not fair. We were supposed to do this together."

"I know," Donovan said patiently. 

But then Luan's sniffling turned into drunk crying, and Donovan realized in his own drunken state that this went well beyond the territory of silly, charming drunkness. Luan was truly distressed here, and his mournful sobs tugged at Donovan's heartstrings.

Donovan sat up from his bed and walked over to Luan's.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when Reize had woken Donovan from his slumber, he could hear Luan's quiet sobs from the next room over. But Donovan had respected his privacy by keeping his distance, and Luan had always tried to act normal by the time the rest of the household awoke.

To keep his distance from Luan now would be heartless, Donovan reasoned.

Instead, he sat on Luan's bed next to him and patted his shoulder once, hesitantly, not daring to do more, not sure what to do even if he did. Luan had no such reservations, and he buried his red face and graceless sobs in the cloak at Donovan's shoulder.

Donovan said nothing, but simply sat there with Luan for as long as he needed, which ended up being quite a while.

When Luan eventually nodded off into drunken slumber on Donovan's shoulder, Donovan quietly leaned him over to his pillow and pinched out the candle.

\---

Donovan awoke first the next morning and found Luan still fast asleep. The poor sap deserved the rest, Donovan thought, and the day was early yet, so he left Luan to his slumber.

Donovan dug into the travel rations they had brought along-- beef jerky and stiff crusts of bread. After setting aside some for when Luan woke, they didn't have much left after that-- perhaps one or two meals each, three if they rationed. And after paying for this impromptu stay at the inn, they'd be hard pressed to buy more.

Time grew short, and the necessity of doing another job became readily apparent. 

After breakfast, Donovan assumed that Luan would wake soon, so he passed some time with a game of solitaire on his bed, laying the face cards as neatly as he could on the wrinkled bedsheets. He'd played a lot of solitaire in his time, and he considered himself something of an expert in the game. What a miserable thing to be an expert at, he thought bitterly.

As Donovan silently played his game, Luan eventually stirred in his bed. Donovan wordlessly handed him another canteen of water.

"Thank you," Luan said sheepishly as he emptied it. "It seems I had a difficult evening. I apologize for troubling you."

"You don't need to apologize for that," Donovan said casually, not looking up from his game. "You're allowed to feel sadness from losing Reina, and you're allowed to seek support."

Luan looked away, hearing Donovan's words but not believing them.

Donovan frowned to himself. When he thought about it, who else was Luan meant to go to with such things? His parents were long dead, his brothers had been out of the picture for years, and his relationship with the hedgehogs was cordial at most. If not Donovan, then who?

Donovan looked up from his game, his dark eyes locking onto Luan's with uncommon intensity. "You don't need to hide these things from me or apologize for them," Donovan said seriously.

"That's rich coming from you," Luan said quietly. "All you do is hide things about yourself. From everyone."

Donovan leaned back against the old headboard of his bed. "I can tell you if it's that important to you," Donovan said with deep resignation. "It hardly seems like the most pressing matter to attend to."

"There's never been a good time for that conversation, and I don't think there ever will," Luan said with a bitter laugh. "It's hard to confide in you when you won't tell me things like your last name."

Donovan exhaled. "Fine."

Here he looked away, instead staring intently at the worn wallpaper of the inn. This wasn't a story he could tell while making eye contact.

"My mother died when I was born," Donovan said distantly, "and my father was an abusive drunk. I had an older sister who ran away when I was young; this cloak is all I have left of her. I took to thieving because it was easier to steal food from the neighbors than to get food from my father."

Memories flowed unbidden through Donovan's mind; he inhaled sharply and pressed forward.

"You remember the Whelan household incident," Donovan said as he lowered his scarf, revealing the burn scar on his face. "When my father saw this, he… became dangerous, and I defended myself. On that day I left his house, never to return. I'm told he drank himself into a stupor not long after I left."

Donovan replaced his scarf.

"His name was Ronan Mullane," Donovan said bitterly. "I do not use his surname. He can have it to himself in the cold, dead ground where he is buried. It's where he belongs."

Luan's face softened. "I'm sorry that happened," he said quietly.

"I ask for no sympathy," Donovan said, shaking his head stiffly. "It's in the past. I'm not there anymore. But you wanted to know the truth, so there you have it."

"Thank you for telling me," Luan said gently.

"I suppose fair is fair, after everything you've confided in me over the years," Donovan shrugged, turning back to his solitaire game. "And now that we've spilled our guts to each other, you have no more excuses."

Luan laughed, and they sat in silence for a moment.

"Well, if the subject of conversation is spilling our guts to each other, then I have one more confession," Luan said hesitantly. "I… my heart is still with Reina. I know she is gone, but… I still love her. I can't imagine being with anyone else. I don't know if or when that will stop being true."

Donovan had expected that to be the case. While his heart still sunk to hear it, at least it didn't come as a surprise.

"Give yourself time," Donovan suggested. "Perhaps one day the thought will be easier to bear. Or perhaps it won't. Only you will know for sure."

Then Donovan paused as he moved a card in his game.

"And… I would be curious what you decide," he said awkwardly. "But my friendship with you is unchanged regardless."

The corner of Luan's bearded mouth twitched briefly at a smile. Then he clapped his hands and stood up.

"Alright, we've put this off long enough. Let's go find ourselves a job," Luan said boldly.

\---

After some deliberation, Donovan and Luan snuck into the gated neighborhood on the outskirts of the Outpost.

Although they had rope to climb in (or out) if they needed it, there was no sense attracting unnecessary attention. Instead, Donovan showed Luan the shortcut he'd learned last year, and they clambered around the statue to the other side of the wall. 

The nobleman's back yard was unchanged from Donovan's visit last year, although there were more footsteps in the snow-covered ground this time. It made it all the easier for Donovan and Luan to walk to the road unnoticed.

"Alright, what are you in the mood for?" Luan asked metaphorically. "Turkey dinner with trimmings?" he asked, gesturing to a vast marble manor with pretentious towers in the corners. "Roast lamb?" he asked, gesturing to an ornate wooden building with a pristine row of snow-covered rose bushes in front. "Or perhaps a medium rare filet mignon?" he suggested, gesturing to a house with arched, stained glass windows.

"With potatoes on the side?" Donovan asked, eyebrows raised.

"But of course!" Luan laughed.

Donovan surveyed the menu before him. The Roast Lamb's rose bushes would offer cover, and Donovan's own armor would protect him from the thorns, but he wasn't sure about Luan. On the other hand, perhaps it had a garden that would serve in the same vein?

"I see you eyeing the roast lamb," Luan said with gusto.

"Perhaps," Donovan said evenly.

"But just look at the filet mignon," Luan wheedled. "Such fine windows must be a mere taste of the wealth inside!"

"Or a taste of the visibility from the outside," Donovan argued. "Perhaps the seclusion of the roast lamb is to its benefit."

"Have we eliminated the turkey dinner, then?" Luan asked.

Donovan considered. "Entering would be a challenge, and I dislike the visibility of the outer walls where we'd be going in. I could be persuaded, though."

Luan eyed a passerby in the distance and coughed.

"I myself have always been a fan of turkey dinners," he said, speaking metaphorically as he faced Donovan. "They're delicious, and once you cut through the tough skin on the outside, the meat inside is juicy and tender." 

"Well, perhaps a roast lamb with a more delicate skin would be more your style," Donovan argued. 

"If you want an appealing exterior, there's no beating a filet mignon," Luan countered with a mischievous grin.

When the passerby was out of earshot, they dropped the act once more.

"If you want a safe job, the Roast Lamb is our best bet," Donovan sighed. "I agree the payout from the others may be higher, but you said safety was your priority."

Luan considered a moment and sighed. Thoughts of Reize at home visibly weighed on his impulse control, and Donovan was admittedly grateful for it.

"Fine, roast lamb it is," Luan agreed.

\---

At a surface glance, it wouldn't be a difficult job. 

Donovan and Luan saw no guards of any kind on the property, and the tall pine trees at the border offered a comforting lack of visibility even in the winter. The early afternoon sun had melted some of the snow, leaving the path to the house fortuitously clear. 

They hid in the rosebushes until nightfall, and when the lights in the house made them reasonably sure the occupants weren't in the back room, Donovan set to unlocking the back door. As he did, Luan scouted the residence through the windows.

Once inside, Luan pointed to the expensive-looking candlesticks, which Donovan quietly placed into a sack along with some other trinkets he saw. He prepared to bolt from the house, but Luan stared distractedly at something in the corner.

Donovan's eyes widened. They could be discovered at any time. What was so important to hold Luan's attention during such a crucial moment? Donovan dared not break the silence to ask.

Against his better judgment, Donovan drew near, and he saw Luan looking through a row of wine bottles, a faraway look in his eye. Donovan shook his shoulder; they needed to leave, now.

But Luan got a determined glint in his eye, and he started pulling wine bottles from the cabinet.

Donovan wanted to throttle him. They had enough of a haul already, and every passing moment increased the likelihood that they would be caught. This was an unnecessary risk.

But Luan would not be deterred from it.

Sighing inwardly, Donovan pulled out a sack and helped Luan wrap his wares for transportation. The sooner they finished this task, the sooner they could leave.

As they finished doing so, footsteps boomed out from around the corner, beating ominously alongside Donovan's own pounding heart. He lowered the faceplate of his armor. No sense revealing what little of his face was visible.

Luan had no such precautions he could take, but instead he pulled a smoke bomb from his pocket. Must have been a gift from Hedge Pupil, or perhaps Reina, Donovan guessed. A rare treasure to be wasting on such a foolish venture. They both drew their swords and watched quietly from the inside of the kitchen, backs straight against the walls as they tried to blend in with the shadows.

A tiny old woman lit a fire in the next room, which lit the entire back side of the house like a beacon. Donovan didn't much care for that.

"Who goes there?" she asked firmly, with gravitas that seemed to exceed her frail frame.

Neither Donovan or Luan disturbed the silence as they watched, luckily avoiding her notice for the time being. The old woman drew a fire poker from next to the fireplace and wielded it menacingly.

Donovan's eyes went wide and blank, and for a moment he forgot himself. He inhaled sharply at the sight of that fire poker, hands shaking at his sides.

The old woman heard this and bolted towards the kitchen. Fortunately, Luan kept his senses about him. He caught the old woman's fire poker in the crook of his cutlass and twisted it from her grasp as he deployed the smoke bomb. 

"Come on!" Luan whispered as he yanked Donovan's arm. Donovan came to and sprinted from the house, his wares jangling noisily as he ran.

"I will make you regret the day you were born!" the woman shouted after them, but their stamina outmatched hers, and they disappeared into the night.

\---

"That sure was close," Luan laughed as they walked away from the Outpost, sacks jingling with their newly pilfered loot.

Donovan's face was blank and steely, and he said nothing. 

"Come on, lighten up," Luan said with a smile as he gently elbowed Donovan in the side.

"You were foolish to take the wine bottles," Donovan said quietly.

"It's fine," Luan reassured him. "She couldn't have done any harm, and we could have easily taken her if it came to it. And we made it out, didn't we?"

"You aren't taking this seriously," Donovan said, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "We got lucky. Perhaps we won't be so lucky next time."

Luan stopped walking and pulled one of the wine bottles from his sack. Donovan saw the ornate label on the side-- Seatlan Estates.

"Forgive an old friend for harboring a keepsake from the past," Luan said bitterly.

"It was hubris!" Donovan shouted. "You can't take risks like that anymore!"

"Then why did you help me package them?" Luan shot back.

"Because I didn't want you to get caught!" Donovan yelled.

A harsh silence filled the air, broken only by the wind and their footsteps in the crunchy snow.

"I won't abandon you," Donovan said quietly. "And if you insist on making these senseless wagers, I'll make them with you if I think it'll get you out safely. In return, I ask that you think before you act!"

Luan blinked and looked away like a scolded child. They walked in silence after that.

A few minutes later, they met a familiar face on the road.

"Gentlemen," Chester said with a raise of the eyebrows. "Fancy seeing you here. Might those be items for sale on your backs?"

Donovan and Luan glanced at each other. They may as well unload their haul, Donovan supposed. The lighter load would make the trip back to the Village a little easier. It was almost worth the headache of dealing with Chester.

"By all means," Donovan said as he unloaded his sack. "Candlesticks, jewelry, some golden cookware…"

Chester raised his eyebrows as he appraised the wares, and Donovan knew right then that he'd get a good price for the lot.

"It's been a while since I've seen you bring back housewares like this," Chester said curiously. "I thought you'd left that work behind you."

"The situation called for it," Luan said brusquely. "Are you here to ask questions, or do you want the goods?"

"Well, if you're desperate enough to heed the call of petty house burglary, I'm sure I can be of assistance," Chester said with a smirk. "For a fee, of course."

Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. One could never be too careful what they told Chester, or in this case, passively allowed him to guess. 

"How much for the lot?" Donovan asked tersely.

Chester's named price of 9000 gold was on the low end of fair, but Donovan didn't feel like fighting him over it.

"And how much for this wine?" Luan asked, pulling out the bottles one by one.

Chester laughed as he packed away the goods he'd just purchased. "Seatlan Estates," he said fondly. "Used to be the best in the business, but I'm sure you must have heard of the scandal from last year. Turns out, the owner of the place was a murderer and a fraud! Now nobody wants anywhere near the stuff, funny enough."

Luan glared at him, but eventually sighed and packed them up.

"Fine," Luan said defiantly. "I'll take them with me, and when demand picks up next year, you'll be buying them from me for triple the regular price."

Chester snickered. "If I thought that'd happen, I'd have bought them from you now on the cheap," he said with a shrug. "So consider it a wager between us, if you like."

Luan huffed as he picked up his pack. 

"Well, it's been a pleasure, as always," Donovan said crisply, "but we really should be getting on our way. Until next time, Chester."

Chester gave a casual salute as he walked away.

"I rather dislike that man," Luan admitted grumpily when Chester was out of earshot.

"It's a shame he's so useful," Donovan agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all in all I think that comes out to alcoholism, childhood abuse/neglect, grief, trauma, and abandonment. Poor Donovan. I figured there weren't really a lot of happy reasons for him to end up as a thief, so that's what I'm going with here.
> 
> Also Chester continues to be surprisingly fun to write.


	18. Interlude

Donovan took first watch that night.

The road leading directly from the Village to the Outpost stayed fairly busy with people, so Donovan and Luan made a habit of traveling somewhat off the beaten path when returning home. It decreased their chances of encountering both bandits and knights, since neither would mean anything but ill towards their operation.

Tonight, they camped in a cave in the outskirts of the mountain range with a fire to keep warm. The hope was that few people would dare venture this far out in the dead of winter, making the gamble of lighting a fire a wise one. Even so, Donovan sat on a stone at the entrance of the cave, keeping watch.

Tonight was not Donovan's lucky night.

Horse hooves in the distance alerted him to the presence of company. Donovan drew his sword and stood up, the flames of the campfire lighting the cave behind him.

A group of ten riders approached the cave entrance, bundled head to toe in winter furs. One by one, they dismounted and approached the entrance.

"Leave," Donovan ordered, gesturing at them with his sword.

"Aw, this one thinks he can put up a fight!" the one at the front said with a pitying laugh. "Just hand over your gold and nobody has to get hurt."

"I said leave!" Donovan shouted. The forceful baritone of his voice echoed in the cave behind him. It was enough to wake Luan, who audibly stirred in his sleeping bag behind Donovan.

"Last chance," the bandit said, drawing a wicked looking spear. As the bandit drew closer to the cave, Donovan was able to make out the hungry eyes of a scavenger in his opponent's face. Still, he stood his ground.

"You forfeit your lives by approaching," Donovan said with a flourish of his sword.

The bandit raised his spear, and Donovan's combat senses flared to life.

The bandit wore thick boots and a coat but made no clanking noises, so he was likely not wearing armor. However, the thickness of the coat might resist slashing damage somewhat. Donovan would prioritize piercing and stabbing blows. A crosshatching of scars lines what little Donovan could see of the bandit's face; he was clearly no stranger to battle. 

The bandit wielded his spear with practiced, professional grace, flipping it out from his side and towards Donovan. 

The reach of the spear would be a problem, but it wasn't Donovan's first time facing such an opponent. The Stranded Ship had given him lots of practice against spear-wielders. Donovan blocked the blow with his sword and directed the spear's trajectory away from his head.

The bandit laughed, stepping away from the cave to give himself the advantage. "Clever, aren't you?"

Donovan stepped forward once, but he dared go no further. The narrow cave entrance gave Donovan a tactical advantage, and he wouldn't let the bandit draw him out of it.

"Come face me like a man, you coward!" the bandit bellowed.

"Leave," Donovan repeated, his sword extended in front of him.

The bandit lunged with his spear from just outside the reach of Donovan's blade; Donovan dodged to the side. The bandit swung his spear to hit Donovan in the side of the head; he parried the blow.

"Alright, enough fuss," Luan said from behind Donovan as he unsheathed his blade. 

"Took you long enough," Donovan said, smiling under his scarf.

Luan smiled back briefly before facing the bandits. "You picked the wrong travelers to rob."

"Or perhaps you picked the wrong night to die," the bandit replied darkly. "You're outnumbered five to one. Give up."

Donovan turned to Luan. "I think we can take them, how about you?"

Luan thought for a moment and grinned. "Yeah, I think so."

As it turned out, the only competent fighter in the group was the spear-wielder at the front. The rest had amateurish control of their weapons at best, and they scattered into the night like wolves when wounded. Donovan and Luan made short work of them, tearing into their opponents with business-like efficiency. Donovan had warned them, hadn't he?

After that, the resulting two-on-one contest between Donovan and Luan and their spear-wielding opponent was short-lived, and after sustaining heavy wounds, he too fled into the night on his horse. 

Donovan and Luan exchanged a high five.

\---

With the threat subdued, Luan took watch for the rest of the night, allowing Donovan to get some sleep. Fortunately, they saw no more bandits that night. And after another day of traveling, they returned home to the Village once more.

"Glad to see you back," Hedge Farmer said irritably. "This child has hardly settled down since you left."

True enough, tiny Reize screamed from Hedge Farmer's arms. Luan frowned and picked him up, but Reize still was not satisfied.

Luan peppered Farmer with questions about when he'd last eaten, how long he'd slept, and other such things as they walked in. Donovan sat down on the couch as they talked, not paying attention.

The thing that caught his attention was when Luan started humming.

Luan walked slowly through the living room, staying close by the fire as he rocked Reize in his arms and hummed a tune that Donovan didn't recognize. And yet, despite Donovan's utter lack of musical training, he could tell Luan carried the tune well. Luan's hushed baritone voice danced up and down with the swells of the tune, as melodious as a bird and yet as gentle as a sigh.

Between the music and the rocking motions, Reize did eventually stop crying, but Luan's lullaby continued, and Donovan found himself nearly as enraptured as Reize was. The tenderness in the display was truly beautiful.

When Luan's song ended, Donovan sat in an astonished silence for a long moment.

"I didn't know you could sing," Donovan said in surprise.

Luan jumped. "I didn't see you there," he said bashfully. "Sorry."

"No, it was beautiful," Donovan said earnestly, surprising himself with how much he meant it.

Luan chuckled. "I suppose all those years of lute lessons were good for something," he said with a shrug.

"Reize certainly seemed to enjoy it," Donovan pointed out.

"I suppose he did," Luan said with a fond smile as he looked down. Reize stared up at him peacefully, his arms wiggling slightly in his swaddling blanket.

\---

Two years passed. 

Reize grew from a newborn to a toddler, and he kept the others in the household on their toes with his creative new ways of causing trouble.

Luan filled the shoes of fatherhood admirably, and as Reize grew slightly more independent, the exhaustion that had burdened him in Reize's first months lessened slightly as well. The ability for Luan to sleep through the night gave him the energy to keep up with Reize's hijinks, and heaven knows he needed every bit of it.

When Donovan wasn't chasing down Reize and directing him back to his father, he could often be found helping Hedge Farmer with tasks on the farm or in the home. Donovan's efforts meant Hedge Farmer could save on hiring farm hands, and those saved wages served as a rent reduction for Donovan, which he was happy with. He got pretty handy with a scythe after a few harvest seasons.

Hedge Pupil remained as mysterious as ever, and Donovan still had no clue where he went during the day. Once he saw Pupil enter the bathroom without coming out, so he reasoned that Pupil must have snuck out the window when Donovan wasn't looking. He didn't care enough to investigate further than that.

In addition to taking occasional local bounties on dangerous wildlife, Donovan and Luan ran thieving jobs to supplement the household income every few months or so, and Hedge Farmer cared for Reize when they did. 

All in all, the household fell into a routine of sorts. And though Reina was never forgotten, eventually they learned to forge onward in her absence.

\---

One spring day, after the crops were planted and growing, Donovan decided to spend an afternoon doing combat drills in the back yard. 

He couldn't afford to let his swordsmanship skills go rusty--when he needed them, he needed them at full strength. He made a habit of sharpening these skills whenever he got the chance, and rote repetition was the best way to keep and maintain muscle memory.

Young Reize, now two years old, toddled about the yard curiously, his wobbly legs barely carrying him forward. Despite Luan's efforts to the contrary, Reize's cowlicked hair always stuck up at odd angles, its unruliness taking after his father's own wild locks. As Reize explored the back yard, Luan kept a watchful eye on him from the porch.

Eventually Reize wandered towards Donovan, making childlike babbling noises as he walked. Some of those noises sounded a bit like he was trying to say the name Donovan, which admittedly softened Donovan's heart a bit.

"Must you do blade work where the child can see?" Hedge Farmer called out to Donovan in dismay from the garden, where he worked on some weeding.

"It's fine," Luan said dismissively. "Donovan's not stupid. Right, Donovan?"

Donovan sighed and sheathed his blade as the child drew near. "Go to your father," he told Reize gruffly but not unkindly.

Reize was old enough to understand what that meant, but he gleefully ignored him, instead continuing his direction and bear hugging Donovan's armored leg.

Hedge Farmer laughed.

"That's adorable," Luan said, grinning under his beard, which grew nearly as long as the hair on his head now.

Donovan sighed and picked up the toddler, who cooed happily in his arms.

"Luan, I think your child needs attention," Donovan said in dismay, carrying Reize over to the porch.

"I think he wants your attention," Luan said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I'm busy," Donovan said gruffly as he handed the child to Luan.

Luan chuckled and tossed Reize into the air; the child screamed gleefully. Donovan returned to his drills, practicing the careful hops of fencing footwork.

"You're setting a bad example," Hedge Farmer grumbled to Luan as Reize picked up a stick and started waving it around. Now it sounded like Reize was saying "knight," perhaps something he picked up from his nightly bedtime stories.

"Oh come now, sons follow in their fathers' footsteps all the time," Luan said easily, picking up a stick of his own and play-fighting with Reize. "What's the harm in it?"

"He'll grow up thinking this is normal," Hedge Farmer said with irritation as he lopped off part of a plant with his shears.

"For us, it is," Donovan reminded him.

Hedge Farmer huffed and turned to Luan. "As a father, you can't possibly want that life for him, can you?"

"As a father, I know that Reize will make his own choices regardless of what I want," Luan said, still play-fighting with Reize.

"He's still too young to be around swords," Hedge Farmer grumbled.

"That's why we're using sticks," Luan said cheerfully.

Hedge Farmer went silent after this. Donovan wondered if Farmer would complain as much if Reize had taken such an interest in farming. He doubted it.

"Alright, let's get you some lunch, kiddo," Luan said with a smile as he carried Reize inside. Perhaps Luan would appreciate some help with that, Donovan reasoned, and he followed them inside as well.

\---

A few weeks later, Donovan and Luan finished another job.

This one went to the bogs on the western side of the mountain. Although the water was perilously deep and disgusting, there were jewels to be found and apples to be harvested all year round. Jewel-wise, it was a comparatively sparse location, but its proximity to the Village made up for it.

Today, they carried their prize back to the hideout in the Lich Yard.

Over the last few years, they had maintained the location as a kind of outpost away from their home in the Village. Hedge Farmer had put his foot down on allowing stolen goods into the home, so they stored the majority of their spoils and supplies here instead.

Over the years, Luan's taste for hunting magical artifacts had produced a number of defenses for the location, which Luan meticulously maintained. It all went over Donovan's head; he was happy enough to use magical items in combat, but had little interest in anything more than that. It was sufficient for him to know the location was safe while they were away in the Village.

Today, their haul went into the vault in the hideout, a small closet-like attachment secured with lock and chain. Donovan had been picky in selecting the lock; there was no sense trusting their security to a contraption he could easily pick through himself. This lock was suitable enough.

"What say we spend the night here tonight?" Luan suggested.

"Fine by me," Donovan replied. Just as well that they rest up before making the trek home. "We'll need food for supper unless you want noodles, though."

"Perish the thought!" Luan laughed. "I've had enough noodles for a lifetime thanks to you. Let's go get something else."

The mid-afternoon sun lit the gray clouds over the Lich Yard, making navigability easier even if it didn't alleviate the dreary atmosphere of the town in the slightest. 

As they entered the market of the Lich Yard, Donovan's eyes pored over the sights before him. The stalls were never exactly the same from one day to the next, and one could never be completely sure what they might find here. It was one of the few places in the Lich Yard that he didn't hate.

"Donovan, look at the prices on these game hens!" Luan pointed out. "Perhaps meat with dinner wouldn't be such a bad thing."

Donovan nodded along, although his eyes lingered on a vendor selling fish. He did rather like fish, after all. Still, he eventually turned away-- he'd let Luan have this one. Just this once.

Then a familiar voice drew their attention:

"Hello gentlemen," Chester called out. "Looking to do some business today?"

Donovan blinked in surprise. Chester could be hard to find when one needed him, and yet here he was when they didn't. The irony of it all.

"Not unless you're selling food for supper," Luan replied. "And knowing your prices, I doubt we'd buy even if you were."

Chester laughed. "Cutting words, cutting words," he said good-naturedly. "You can't blame a man for trying to make it in this world. It's just business, you see."

"I'm sure," Donovan said sardonically. "So you'll forgive us for taking ours elsewhere."

Chester raised his eyebrows. "I'm not worried. You'll be back. You always are," he said with a devilish grin. 

Donovan narrowed his eyes.

"Although, since you're here, I thought I'd give you a tip," Chester said as though the thought had just occurred to him. "It's about a job opportunity."

One could never take Chester's words entirely at face value, but this caught their attention regardless.

"...What kind of job opportunity?" Luan asked suspiciously.

"Well, I'm looking for an item," Chester said with a shrug. "It's an arcana called the Big Boom. Alchemist types go nuts for them. I have it on good authority that one can be found out in Birder Bluffs, and I'm willing to pay good money for someone to retrieve it for me."

"How much are we talking?" Donovan asked.

"900 gold," Chester replied.

Donovan and Luan exchanged a glance. Birder Bluffs was a long ways out, and the pay on the job wasn't really worth the travel time there and back.

"I think we'll have to pass on this one," Luan said gruffly.

"Of course, that's just what I'll pay you," Chester said, tapping his chin with his index finger. "You'll find it in a whole hoard of goodies that will make it well worth your time."

Donovan considered. "We'll think about it. Where exactly in Birder Bluffs?"

\---

"It sounds implausible, doesn't it?" Luan asked from his hammock back in the hideout.

Donovan hacked up the meat they got from the vendor as he considered.

"It's a gamble," he agreed. "Who knows if that hoard Chester described is real? If it's not, we'll have wasted our time and incurred the wrath of Hedge Farmer, since he expects us home soon."

"But if it is real, Farmer'll probably forgive us if we cook a nice meal for dinner," Luan said with a shrug.

"Will Reize forgive you?" Donovan asked pointedly.

Luan sighed. Reize always became inconsolable when Luan stayed out longer on a job than he said he would. Reize loved his uncle Hedge Farmer, but he was no replacement for Reize's father.

"It's just a few days, right?" Luan rationalized. "If I send a letter, then Hedge Farmer can explain the situation. And if this job means we don't have to go out again for a while, then that's more time at home with Reize, right?"

Donovan shrugged. This was entirely beyond him.

Luan pondered. "What if I bring him back an extra toy or treat? Tell him I had to take a few more days to find it? He'd understand that, right?"

"Maybe?" Donovan replied. Reize was growing fast, but he had yet to grasp the necessity of things like changing out of pajamas and brushing teeth. The complexity of rent and the economy was likely a bit beyond him, but the presence of a new toy might distract him, Donovan supposed.

"What do you think?" Luan asked.

Donovan considered. "I'm scarcely interested in Chester's reward money, but the idea of a hoard of treasure in the Bluffs is more intriguing. I will confess I am curious," he answered.

"If there is indeed a treasure hoard, surely it's well-guarded, right?" Luan wondered. "And we'd have no way of knowing until we get there."

"There's nothing to lose except, well, time and resources," Donovan said with a shrug.

Luan went silent for a moment as he thought. "We have every reason in the world to say no," he pointed out, "and yet my curiosity grows. Donovan, you should talk me out of this before my impulse control gets the better of me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Title of next chapter: "Luan's impulse control gets the better of him" lol
> 
> 2\. Luan probably hummed Le Bouquet Magique from the Plague of Shadows OST because that song is flipping amazing lol. But on the other hand, the SoH and PoS soundtracks exist in-universe (although the boss themes at least won't be commissioned for a number of years yet from this point in the fic), so you can also pick any one of those songs if you like tho 
> 
> So I guess Bard composed Waltz for One, played it somewhere that Luan heard (such as the dance in chapter 8?), and now he's humming/singing it himself. Aww
> 
> 3\. Donovan isn't a bad cook, but he is basically self-taught, so he probably didn't go to culinary school to learn how to fabricate chicken lol. So the meat will be edible but maybe not super pretty


	19. Luan's impulse control gets the better of him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated some tags btw

Donovan ultimately failed to talk Luan out of it, so they found themselves leaving the next morning for Birder Bluffs, a two-day journey. If Chester had sent them on a wild goose chase, Donovan swore an oath to tear him apart upon their return. 

But they had to reach their destination first.

True to his word, Luan did send a letter back to the Village explaining that they would be out for another five days or so. And since they left early in the morning and pushed themselves, they reached the Armor Outpost by nightfall and were able to spend the night in an inn there. Then it was onwards to the Birder Bluffs the next morning.

Donovan was never terribly fond of birders. They flitted about almost unpredictably at times, always managing to be in the least convenient place. He and Luan kept busy cutting them down from their path as they traveled. 

Luckily, their route today was less difficult than their journey to Mr. Hat's had been a few years prior. Today they passed through a different path entirely, and this one was far less steep. Donovan's leg muscles thanked him for it.

"Alright, according to Chester's instructions, we should be getting close…" Luan reasoned. "He said we were looking for a building of some kind, but we've hardly seen any civilization for miles now."

"Perhaps a remote ski lodge?" Donovan guessed. "The weather seems cold enough for it."

In fact, if their journey had taken them any further south, Donovan would have declined outright due to inclement weather. As it stood, the early spring weather barely took the edge off the icy chill in this region, but at least it wasn't entirely inhospitable to human life like it was near the Stranded Ship. Only fools tried to live there during the winter. Fools and Polar Knight.

"Well, perhaps we'll have to do some skiing while we're in the area," Luan laughed. 

"I was always more of a snowboarder, myself," Donovan said with a shrug.

Luan raised his eyebrows. "When have you ever gone snowboarding?"

"A few times growing up in the Lich Yard," Donovan replied conversationally. "Some years brought strong snow storms, and sledding or snowboarding outside the town was a common pastime."

"Well, I never would have guessed," Luan said with amusement. "Perhaps we could do some of that, then."

Donovan shrugged noncommittally.

As they reached the top of the hill in front of them, they reached their destination as well.

A towering wooden structure sprung from the sheer cliff wall in front of them. Composed of several loosely connected bridges and rooms, it hung like a treehouse from above, elegant in its complexity if not in its cohesiveness. One main room stood out as larger than the rest; inside, Donovan could see huge chandeliers and silhouettes of people seated at tables. A wooden sign labeled "Crag of Cards" hung from near a ladder that Donovan presumed to be the entrance.

"There are a surprising number of people inside for such a remote location," Luan remarked as he stared up at the massive structure. "Apparently the siren song of… cards… was too appealing to resist?"

"One would think they could play at a more convenient location," Donovan muttered.

Luan scrambled towards the ladder and held a hand out to Donovan, who took it and swung up to the entrance.

The fire in the hearth was a welcome reprieve from the wintry waste below, and Donovan quickly found himself grateful for it. Inside were dozens of tables seating dozens of people, and light conversation filled the room.

What was this place, anyhow? Donovan looked around, and his attention fell on a table near him. One person playing cards threw down their hand in defeat before tossing over a hefty pouch of gold.

"A gambling house…?" Donovan wondered aloud.

"A high stakes one at that," Luan affirmed, pointing to the pot on another nearby table. The pile of gems and gold spread between the four gamblers would pay a year's worth of rent to the hedgehogs, by Donovan's estimate. And here these wealthy fools bandied it about like a child's allowance.

Any qualms Donovan may have had at robbing this place vanished instantly.

"Where is our prize," Donovan asked darkly, careful to keep his voice low.

"Good question," Luan said thoughtfully, matching Donovan's volume as he appraised the place. "A hoard in a place like this must belong to the owner, right?"

Donovan looked around some more, but he could find no indication of an owner within it. Just a lot of people playing cards and a person selling alcohol and pub food in the corner of the room.

"I don't see an owner, do y--" he started, but his train of thought was derailed by a familiar face.

Seated at one of the tables was the fellow in green that Donovan had met at that dance some years back, idiotic propeller-laden helmet and all. That had been his name, hadn't it? Propeller Knight?

"Donovan?" Luan asked curiously, but then he noticed Propeller Knight as well.

"That's the pirate fellow, isn't it?" Luan said to Donovan. "You don't think he's here for the same reason as us, do you?"

"Knowing him, he's likely here to gamble away his money and pick up on potential partners," Donovan scoffed. "I don't think we have to worry about him."

Propeller Knight seemed too enraptured by his game of cards and playing mate to take notice of either of them. Donovan was fine with that. There was no need to get distracted from their mission with frivolities.

As he and Luan discreetly searched the Crag, Donovan saw no secret panels or anything of the type. The only place left to search inside was the room behind the bartender, but Donovan knew they were likely to find little more than some cheap bottles of booze.

The alternative was that the hoard Chester promised wasn't inside the building.

"I wish Chester had been more specific," Luan grumbled as they climbed back down the ladder. 

"'Walk the southern pass of Birder Bluffs until you reach a building, you should find it easily after that,'" Donovan remembered. 

"Well, we can check the region outside the Crag, and if we don't find it, then we can sneak into the back room," Luan said with a shrug as he landed on a platform below the ladder. Donovan leaped from the ladder and joined him.

Luan hesitantly poked and prodded the cliff wall in front of him, looking somewhat foolish. Eventually his self-consciousness caught up with him.

"Donovan, I think we're barking up the wrong tree," he said dejectedly as he leaned against the rocky wall.

But Donovan wasn't so sure. As he scrutinized his surroundings, he saw a suspicious scuff of dirt on the ground, like a door had opened and indented the earth with its corner. Donovan frowned as he traced the line in the dirt up and around the wall. After several minutes of searching, he found a keyhole in the rock, hidden deep in one of its crevasses.

Luan laughed triumphantly. "You've done it again, my friend," he said as he clapped Donovan on the shoulder. Donovan was startled for a moment, but he quickly smiled under his scarf.

"Now to see if I can make my way in," Donovan said quietly as he set about picking the lock.

However, as he attempted to do so, he found his lockpicking tools rebuffed from the entrance to the lock.

"What is this?" Donovan muttered under his breath.

Luan frowned and took a turn examined the lock.

"Time lock," he said with a sigh. "Magic keeps the lock sealed closed. It will only open once per day, if I were to guess."

"Is there no way around this infernal magic?" Donovan snarled. 

"None that would be easier than simply waiting for the designated time," Luan replied. 

Donovan sighed and put down his tools. "And what time is that?" he asked dejectedly.

Luan pulled out a magnifying glass and examined the lock more closely. Donovan wondered what he was looking for. Probably some kind of magical evidence.

"Midnight, apparently," Luan finally answered, putting away his glass. "Isn't it always midnight?"

"Well, we have several hours to kill, then," Donovan muttered, eyeing the late afternoon sun.

"Indeed. Shall we spend them indoors?" Luan suggested.

In light of the bitter wind chill that besieged them, Donovan was inclined to agree.

\---

The two found a table of their own easily enough, and eventually they followed the example set around them and played some cards as well. But instead of betting money, they bet household chores back home.

As they played, Donovan wondered at the variety of games on display. The people around them played everything from poker and canasta to obscure, unknown games with homebrewed rules, and no two tables played exactly the same. Perhaps one day a new card game would come through that everyone would know how to play equally. Until then, chaos would rule the Crag of Cards.

As Donovan went to play his turn, a disturbance from the other side of the room drew his attention. Propeller Knight seemed to be involved in an argument with a rooster man, and a loud one at that. Propeller Knight leaned casually against the wall, seemingly trying to smooth things over, but the rooster man shouted something unintelligible at him and stormed off. 

Propeller Knight appeared stunned for a moment, but he collected himself, brushed off his gold-tasseled shirt, and strode across the room.

Donovan returned to his hand of cards to make his turn, but he was again interrupted, this time by a voice:

"Hello, gentlemen. Might I join you for a hand or two?"

Donovan looked up from his hand to see Propeller Knight leaning arrogantly on their table, clearly already assuming the answer would be yes. Who would dare reject such fine company, after all? Donovan scoffed inwardly.

"I… suppose?" Luan answered after a moment. "We're nearly finished with this game."

Donovan played his turn. "You're Propeller Knight, aren't you?"

"The one and only!" Propeller Knight said with a flourish. "Have we met?"

"Once at a dance a few years back," Donovan answered conversationally.

"Ah, then you'll forgive me for not remembering," Propeller Knight said with a charming laugh. "I attend so many dances and meet so many faces, you see! There can be no keeping track of them all."

"I suppose not," Donovan replied evenly, hiding his mild disappointment at the fact.

They all played poker after that, and Donovan wasn't surprised that Propeller Knight bet and bluffed big, seemingly unafraid of his inevitable losses. Propeller also reacted noticeably to each hand of cards he drew, making it trivial to out-bet him.

"I see you two are no amateurs!" Propeller laughed after a few lost rounds. "Can I buy you both a drink?"

Donovan and Luan exchanged a glance; they'd had a drink each already, and they ought not get drunk before the night's mission.

"Perhaps another time," Luan said gracefully. "I think I've had enough today already."

"Fine, suit yourself," Propeller laughed. "I'll drink two myself in your memory!"

Donovan raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

After a few more hands, Propeller stood up to leave.

"Well, gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. But before I go, may I speak with you in private?" he asked, facing Donovan.

Donovan blinked in surprise, but he hesitantly accepted and stepped from the table. They walked away into the crowd, out of Luan's earshot.

"I think perhaps I do remember you," Propeller Knight said curiously. "Might you be that poor infatuated thing I met in the Village? I believe we spoke on the balcony?"

"The same," Donovan replied gruffly.

Propeller Knight laughed amiably. "I hardly recognized you in those rags you're wearing, but your eyes gave you away. Oh, but I must know the ending to the story. Did you ever tell him?"

"I did," Donovan said falteringly, "...for what little good it did."

Propeller Knight nodded knowingly. "Ah, the tragedy of unrequited love," he said fondly. "If that's the case, then I am also inclined to ask how long you want to wait for him."

"I beg your pardon?" Donovan replied.

"What I mean to say is that there are many fish in the sea," Propeller continued meaningfully. "If one eludes you, there will always be plenty more to take its place, no?"

Donovan said nothing for a long moment.

"And if you are open to other fish, I would be happy to take you back to my room and make you forget all about him," Propeller suggested provocatively.

That caught Donovan off guard. As the implications of Propeller's offer dawned on him, his face went red, and he stammered out an excuse to decline.

Propeller laughed. "So shy! If it suits you, we can take things slower. Perhaps dinner? I am free this evening, as it so happens."

Donovan considered for a moment.

Donovan had known Luan for five years. He'd seen Luan in the throes of romantic entanglement more times than he could count, and he knew Luan had never looked at Donovan the way he had looked at Reina, or even the odd unknown woman on the street. As far as he could tell, Donovan simply didn't register in Luan's mind that way, even after Luan knew how he felt. And even if he did, it was clear that Luan still yearned for Reina, and perhaps always would.

Donovan could spend the rest of his life waiting for him to come around. But what would he have to show for it? What would the opportunity cost be? He could still remain Luan's friend and pursue outside relationships, couldn't he? In fact, perhaps it would be healthier to do so. 

Donovan's whole world revolved around Luan, and had for years. Perhaps it was time he cut bait.

"Dinner would be nice," Donovan said quietly.

\---

After a quick explanation to an understanding and supportive Luan, Donovan did have dinner with Propeller.

The man hardly did anything but talk about himself and his daring escapades aboard the grand Flying Machine of his. On the one hand, Donovan was put off by his arrogance, but on the other, he couldn't help becoming entangled in Propeller's enthralling charisma. Propeller was more idea than man, the mere concept of a life most people secretly dreamed of living. Perhaps in knowing Propeller, one could experience his glamorous lifestyle vicariously for themselves. It was a tempting prospect.

Propeller Knight did eventually turn the conversation back on Donovan, peppering him with a variety of personal questions. Donovan answered most of them without any hesitation, as discussing his favorite sushi types wasn't terribly compromising, but he clammed up tightly when the topic turned to his life growing up in the Lich Yard. If he could barely stomach talking about it with Luan, who he trusted with his life, then he certainly wasn't about to get into that with this flighty airhead.

When the meal ended, Donovan prepared to pay his own way, but Propeller swooped in and covered the whole bill before he could blink. That surprised Donovan, but on the other hand, Propeller certainly seemed to have the funds to do that kind of thing.

"I must say, Donovan," Propeller said casually after the meal, "after an evening of conversation with you, I still feel I hardly know you any better than I did at the start! I would welcome another chance to crack through your mysteries."

"Perhaps," Donovan said noncommittally. "Should our paths cross again, I'd consider it."

Propeller laughed cockily. "I own a flying machine," he pointed out. "If you tell me where to find you, it would be very easy for me to ensure that happens."

"It would, wouldn't it?" Donovan agreed.

Propeller leaned forward on the table slightly, his head resting on the back of his hands. "Playing hard to get, I see?" he asked, his voice taking on a greedy tone. "Surely this is not the same blushing schoolboy I saw at that dance! You have a bit of spark to you yet. A bit of guile, even."

"Who can say?" Donovan replied evenly.

Propeller stood up from the table. "Well, if it's a pursuit you want, Donovan, then it's a pursuit you shall have," he said brazenly. "We shall meet again."

\---

"How was it?" Luan asked when Donovan returned.

"I'm not sure what to make of him," Donovan replied honestly. "He's arrogant, brash, and charming all at once. Chasing him is like chasing the head rush of a stiff drink. It's not healthy, exactly, but it's intoxicating all the same."

"Well, who says you can't have a little fun once in a while?" Luan shrugged. Maybe sometimes that stiff drink is exactly what you need."

"Perhaps," Donovan considered. "I suppose we'll see if he hasn't forgotten me by day's end. Surely he has plenty of other suitors to keep himself occupied."

Luan laughed. "Give yourself a little credit. You're not so forgettable as that. And if he has any sense at all, he'll realize that as well."

Donovan stifled a small smile under his scarf. "I suppose I'll find out," he shrugged. "What time is it, by the way?"

"Nearly time for us to leave," Luan answered, eyeing the clock on the wall. "Any last words for your loverboy before we go?" he asked devilishly.

Donovan playfully punched him in the shoulder.

\---

A sliver of moon cast pale light over the snow-dusted bluffs; they were still as death in the dead of night, peaks silent and looming above them as they descended the ladder. 

The chill of the midnight air bit at Donovan's cheeks as he approached the lock; he was hesitant to remove his gloves in this weather, but the delicacy of the task required it, unfortunately.

By the time he picked through the lock, his hands were chapped and slightly numb from the cold, but he was successful nonetheless. And with no onlookers from outside or within the Crag, they were doing well so far.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Luan said with a wry smile, arms folded tightly to rebuff the cold. "Looks like the door won't lock behind us, so we have ten minutes until the spell reactivates."

"We won't need half that," Donovan muttered as he walked inside.

The vault was small, perhaps the size of the bathroom back home. It was piled up with gold and artifacts, and while the scale of it wasn't as mind-boggling as, say, the Iron Whale's hoard, it was still sizable all the same. As a teenager, Donovan would have been dazzled senseless by the hoard in front of him, but those days of youthful awe were behind him. Now this was just another job.

Donovan nodded to Luan, and they set to their tasks. Donovan loaded up their wallet with gold and jewels, and Luan rifled through the magical artifacts for anything useful.

"Found it!" Luan called out triumphantly after a few minutes of searching. "The Big Boom for Chester. 900 free gold."

"A pittance of gold compared to what I picked up," Donovan countered, grinning under his scarf. "Anything else, or are we done here?"

Luan nodded, satisfied. "The rest is trivial, not worth carrying home. Let us be on our way."

"Not so fast," a voice called from the entrance to the vault. Donovan and Luan looked over.

Propeller Knight stood in the doorway of the vault, lit from behind by the moon outside. Behind him, a few of his Hover Meanies escorted the Crag's bartender at bladepoint.

"Really, after all the work I went to threatening that bartender, it would be such a bore to lose the hoard now," Propeller Knight said, sounding irritated. "Donovan, I didn't dream of YOU getting involved in this. I thought we had something. How disappointing."

"Your mistake. Now stand aside," Donovan barked, drawing his sword. 

Propeller tisked. "No, that won't do at all. A merchant promised me a handsome reward in return for that artifact. I intend to see that through."

Donovan and Luan exchanged a quick glance. Chester had told others about this?

"Now hand over the prize, and nobody need get hurt," Propeller said with a dangerous edge to his voice.

Luan shook his head and drew his sword as well. "You'll have to fight us first. Tell me, if you're so much of a gambling man, how do you like your odds?"

Propeller shook his head. "Actually, I think I have a better idea."

Then he pulled out a chalice of golden liquid, lifted his helmet slightly, and gracefully drank it.

Suddenly the gold and gems in the room swirled around and into Propeller's pockets. In the confusion of soaring coins and trinkets, Propeller launched into the fray and jostled Donovan's wallet in his hands; though Donovan managed to keep ahold of it, the gold inside it came pouring out as well.

Luan cursed and went to tackle Propeller, but Propeller dodged and snatched the Big Boom from Luan's hands. Then his helmet whirred to life, launching him away and into the air outside.

"Well, this has been fun, but I really must be going," Propeller Knight said as the Flying Machine drew near. He and his hover meanies soared up to board it. "But thank you for opening the vault door for me!"

And with that, the Flying Machine took off with the contents of the vault… and the contents of their wallet.

Donovan swore loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I kinda wish the rules of magic in Shovel Knight were more fleshed out lol. It'd make it easier for me to use it as anything other than a lawless plot device. As it stands, I'm trying my best to at least establish the rules before they become important (eg. here with the time lock), because solving plot problems with "yay Luan just found a magic artifact that suddenly saved the day" isn't terribly satisfying lol
> 
> 2\. Fun fact: timed bank vaults have been a thing since 1874 in real life. Does that make them anachronistic to the setting? Great question! Counterpoint: Jules Verne's 1869 serialized story 20,000 leagues under the sea is about a submarine-- in other words, the Iron Whale would be considered science fiction in that same era, and the otherwise medieval-looking* Shovelverse has that, so time locks shouldn't be too unheard of, right? 
> 
> *This logic makes sense if we just conveniently ignore Clock Tower as well. And, uh, maybe the Explodatorium. Look. The Shovel Knight canon has some timey-wimey stuff going on, just gimme this hahaha
> 
> 3\. On the other hand, why ask tedious questions like that when we can just attribute all anachronisms to magic? *handwaves historical inaccuracies away*
> 
> 4\. Also them troupple ichors sure are a pain in the butt, aren't they? Lol. I'm not sorry for this cliffhanger because I had too much fun writing it hahaha
> 
> EDIT February 28th 2021: Just a heads up that I have a three month commitment from March until the end of May, so updates will slow or stop during this time. I'd hoped to have one more update to resolve this cliffhanger up before that commitment starts, but real life had other plans, sadly. It'll go up when it goes up. Hang tight!
> 
> EDIT Mar 3rd 2021 Happy birthday Specty! I still don't have a new chapter ready, but I couldn't let the event pass without saying something


	20. Sunk Cost Fallacy

Since Donovan and Luan weren't exactly welcome back in the Crag, they camped out that night in a nearby cave. 

"What are we going to do?" Luan asked resignedly as he buried his head in his hands. "This was supposed to be a short trip. The bog was nearby. We were supposed to drop everything off in the Lich Yard and head home. Now we don't even have the funds to stay at the Outpost on our way back to the Village. What was I thinking?" He punched his sleeping bag in frustration.

"Well, if we head home, we can cut our losses," Donovan said with a dejected shrug. "Or we can try to track down the Flying Machine and take back what's ours."

Luan exhaled sharply. "I want to go after them. I really do. But is it wise to do so?"

"Is anything about any of this wise?" Donovan retorted. "We gambled with this job and lost, and like gamblers, the only way to get it back is to keep playing. Our livelihood is built on a sunk cost fallacy. "

"Hell of a way to live," Luan muttered.

They sat in silence for a moment. Donovan dug out some food from his pack and offered half to Luan, who accepted it with a brusque nod.

"Do you want to know the one good thing about all this?" Luan asked with a tired, ironic smile.

"What," Donovan grumbled.

Luan took a bite of his bread. "At least you saw his true colors before you got in too deep with him," he laughed with his mouth full.

"If he wanted a second date, he should have tried not stabbing me in the back," Donovan replied irritably.

"You can do better than him," Luan teased.

Donovan agreed with that.

\---

It got cold that night.

Due to the remoteness of their location and the inhospitable conditions outside (not to mention their lack of valuables for bandits to steal), Donovan and Luan hadn't bothered to take shifts keeping watch that night. Both had passed out on the cave floor promptly without even a fire to keep them warm--not that there was any firewood in the region for one anyhow. All the more reason to never return here, in Donovan's mind.

Donovan was used to sleeping in the cold. He'd spent nights on the street, in the drafty hideout, and out in the wild on many occasions. This went beyond that. The bitter chill sank its teeth through blanket and clothing alike, freezing him to his core. He had enough protection from the elements to prevent him from freezing to death, but little more. The night promised to be a long one.

He managed to get a few scattered hours of sleep, on and off, before something else woke him.

Apparently Luan had felt the sting of the cold as well. At some point in the night, in his subconscious tossing and turning, Luan seemed to have grabbed hold of Donovan, and now Luan snored quietly behind him.

Donovan could feel Luan's body heat behind him, hear the soft rustle of his breathing, feel the weight of Luan's arm on his.

Donovan froze in place. This had never happened before. The two of them had always kept to their own sides of the camp and that had been that. This was unprecedented, uncalled for…

And given the freezing cold of the cave, he wasn't complaining one bit.

Donovan wasn't sure what was going through Luan's mind at the moment. Had Luan's sleep-addled mind mistaken Donovan for his late girlfriend? God, the thought made Donovan want to die on the spot. Or perhaps Luan was just cold. Yes, that thought was easier to swallow.

Donovan dared not move, dared not make a sound, dared not break this spell. Surely Luan would rectify this when he woke and realized what had happened. And if Donovan appeared to be asleep when that happened… Well, that was plausible deniability, wasn't it?

Perhaps that was wrong of him. But he couldn't bring himself to do otherwise.

And even as his heart pounded nervously in his chest and the chill of the cave wore away at his stamina, Donovan savored that moment… just a bit.

Eventually he fell back asleep, and when he woke once more, Luan had rolled back over to his own side of the cave. The spell was broken. Had Donovan dreamed the whole thing? Surely not, judging by the lucidity of the memory. Could delirium truly produce something so vivid?

If it had, Donovan couldn't decide whether it was a kindness or a cruelty.

\---

"Alright, I think I have a plan for how we can get our gold back," Luan announced early the next morning.

"Do you now?" Donovan said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Daylight had barely warmed the air of the cave, but he'd take what little comfort he could get from it.

"The Flying Machine from last night headed due north-east when it departed," Luan explained seriously, his eyes focused and determined as they met Donovan's. "If we head that direction ourselves, I think we could catch them."

"Catch them? They're on a flying machine, for god's sake!" Donovan shouted. "They could be anywhere in the world by now!"

Luan shook his head. "Call it a… calculated risk," he said slowly. "They left in an awful hurry last night, and judging by the noise left in their wake, the engines of the vessel struggled to keep the pace. Whether for fuel or repairs, I would guess something lies to the north east, and it'll be our ticket aboard."

"And if it's not?" Donovan accused. "How long are you willing to spend on this wild goose chase?"

Luan went silent at that.

"I told Hedge Farmer we would be gone for up to five days," he said slowly after a long moment. "We still have three days left. That's two to travel back, and one to test this hypothesis of mine."

Donovan gave a long, slow exhale.

"Do we have the rations for the trip?" Luan asked.

"...yes," Donovan begrudgingly admitted.

Luan stared expectantly at him.

"Fine," Donovan relented. He had grown weary of these wintry bluffs, and truth be told, he was eager to leave them as soon as possible. But underneath that, he wanted revenge as much as Luan did. And if this gambit paid off, it would be well worth the trouble.

\---

Donovan fought the exhaustion that weighed on his eyes as they hiked through the bluff. 

Luan kept a brisk pace, his brow furrowed in a perpetual frown as he hiked the rocky hills of the Bluff. Even despite all of his seasons of traveling, Donovan had to push himself to keep up. They scarcely stopped on their journey as they moved towards what they hoped was the Flying Machine.

"What will we do when we find it?" Donovan asked as they walked. "We aren't well equipped for this kind of heist."

"We board it, of course," Luan replied.

"And if things go wrong?" Donovan clarified. "This won't be like the Iron Whale. There won't be any safely exiting into the water if we're discovered."

"Then we fight anything and everything in our way until we reach the hold," Luan said gruffly as he climbed a steep ridge.

Donovan nodded slowly. Luan's typical cheery, mischievous demeanor was gone. He was serious about this. Had his pride truly been so injured by the events at the Crag? Donovan worried about what this meant for the mission.

Even so, they continued their travels. And a few hours later, they did find the Flying Machine, just as Luan said they would.

The airship docked at a huge cliffside, floating gently midair as hover meanies flew back and forth from the dock with supplies. The gilded planks shone in the light of midday, and Donovan squinted and lowered his hood at the sight of them. The roar of the propellers was easily audible even here, a hundred feet away. It probably took some kind of magic to ensure everyone aboard didn't go deaf.

"No disguises this time," Luan said with a chuckle. "We'll have to get aboard the old fashioned way."

"And what way is that?" Donovan scoffed. The Flying Machine was a good fifty feet away from the cliff wall; Donovan saw no way to board it that didn't result in them plummeting to their deaths hundreds of feet below. What a terrible way to go that would be, he thought with a shudder.

But Luan was not deterred. With the bravery only a madman could possess, he sprinted and leaped headlong off the cliff.

"Luan!" Donovan shouted, running after him.

Luan fell a few feet, landing atop a flying jellyfish of some kind. From there he leaped to a second jellyfish, and that got him close enough to grab the ladder up to the Flying Machine and climb up. The jellyfish scattered away into the canyon; Donovan stared out in shock at this cavalier, reckless disregard for safety.

Ignoring Donovan's surprise, Luan grabbed a length of knotted rope from his pack and tied it securely around the base of the ladder. 

"Over here!" he called out as he tossed it in Donovan's direction. Luckily the wind carried it forward and Donovan caught it, still rattled by what he had just witnessed.

"You could have been killed, you know," Donovan said stiffly as he climbed the rope, raising his voice a bit to carry over the din of the ship's propellers.

"Pshh, it's fine," Luan called back with a wave of his hand. When Donovan reached the top of the ladder, Luan packed the rope back up.

"There's no going back," Donovan pointed out, staring uneasily at the chasm below. There were no jellyfish to catch them now.

"No way except forwards," Luan agreed seriously… and yet the glint in his eyes made Donovan nervous. Luan was off kilter right now, and a reckless Luan was a dangerous Luan. 

They soon found themselves in a mahogany-walled room in the ship. Luan stabbed his sword between the slats in the wall with one arm and extended his other; Donovan took hold and swung up to the next platform. 

"It's too quiet in here…" Donovan remarked. "Where are the crew? The enemies?"

"You can't enjoy our good luck for a moment?" Luan said with a half-hearted laugh. "Maybe they're all helping with the refueling."

"I suppose so," Donovan said uneasily.

As they exited the interior, Donovan realized that the crossing to the next part of the ship was… precarious. He couldn't keep himself from looking down over the railing, and the distant cliffside stared back at him, swallowing his vision. Donovan grew lightheaded. 

"Are you alright?" Luan asked form up ahead. With difficulty, Donovan tore his eyes from the vertigo-inducing depths below, clinging to the banister with a vice grip as he walked forward.

"That looks like the cargo hold up ahead," Luan pointed out as he opened the door to it. "Perhaps this is where we'll find our prize?"

"I hope so. The sooner we find a way off this monstrosity, the better," Donovan muttered.

"Monstrosity?!" a voice said from behind him.

Who should approach except Propeller Knight himself, of course? Donovan cursed inwardly.

"You heard me," Donovan said provokingly, silently hoping Luan would take the opportunity to scout the hold.

"First you sneak aboard my beautiful ship like a pitiful beggar, and then you have the audacity to insult her?!" Propeller Knight screeched as he drew his rapier. "Do you have any idea the pain that awaits you?"

"I'm sure I don't," Donovan mocked as he stepped away from the entrance to the hold. Propeller's attention followed, and Luan took the opening and ducked into the hold. Perfect.

"En garde!" Propeller Knight called out with cold fury.

Donovan's curved blade met Propeller's needle-like blade point with a crash of metal, followed by three more blows in quick succession. Propeller matched his movements acutely and responded with his own onslaught of blows.

This wasn't a foe Donovan could take lightly, he realized.

Donovan parried them all, but only barely. Propeller's onslaught came from all directions, and Donovan had trouble doing any more than blocking him. Fortunately, time was on his side-- if he waited long enough, Luan would find their treasure, and the tide of the battle would turn.

Donovan just had to last till then.

He tried to kill as much time as possible with defensive maneuvers, and to an extent he was successful. But then Propeller began to use that gaudy helmet of his.

As formidable of an opponent as Propeller was on the ground, he was somehow ten times worse in the air. With the grace of a flittering insect, he danced about the air unpredictably, leaving Donovan no time to anticipate the swing of his rapier. One airborne strike from behind Donovan's right shoulder would have wounded him if he hadn't accidentally deflected the blow with his gauntlet.

Donovan exhaled sharply. Luan was welcome to join the fray at any time. But until then again, Donovan had a few tricks of his own up his sleeve. He turned to face his opponent and leaped into the air.

Two quick dash slices took him from his place on the ground to a platform somewhere above. With laser-sharp focus, he dived towards Propeller. But instead of meeting Propeller's blade, he was stopped by a whirlwind from Propeller's helmet. The gale was sufficient to blow Donovan off course and over the banister; his heart plummeted into his stomach as he fell

But his free hand caught the banister at the last moment, saving him from certain death.

"After all I did for you, this is how you repay me?" Propeller barked.

"I owe you nothing!" Donovan shouted back as he scrambled up the side of the vessel, batting wildly at Propeller's incoming blows with his sword. "And even if I did, you can't be surprised that I would come to reclaim what you stole!"

"That pittance of gold in your wallet?" Propeller scoffed. "It was hardly enough to buy a proper bottle of wine. Show some dignity."

"If it means so little to you, I'll take it and leave," Donovan said sourly in response. He flipped back over the banister, sword outstretched defensively.

"And let the mangy dog be satisfied with his table scraps, then?" Propeller Knight said in a caustic tone as he lunged with his blade. "I don't know what I ever saw in a lowlife like you."

"Your own ego in the reflection of my visor," Donovan retorted as he stepped to the side of the blow.

For a brief moment, Propeller Knight stiffened, and Donovan used the opportunity to kick at the back of his knees-- a scrappy, even dishonorable tactic, but it got the job done. Propeller Knight buckled under the blow, staggering to keep his balance on the deck of his airship. From there, Donovan tackled him to the ground, wrenched his rapier from his gloved hands, and sent it rolling down the deck before turning to leave.

Propeller clumsily staggered to his feet. With Propeller's weapon lost, Donovan had earned his escape, but Propeller was not a graceful loser. 

"He'll never love you," Propeller hissed.

Donovan stopped for the briefest of moments, but then he stepped through the door to the hold, slamming it firmly behind him.

\---

Inside the hold, Luan's eyes gleamed with excitement as he loaded up his pack. Although most of the goods here were boring crates of supplies, Luan had found a stash of gemstones and a magical staff of some kind. He looked like a child opening gifts on his birthday.

"We might want to hurry," Donovan said sternly as he barricaded the entrance to the hold where he had just entered. Ominous bludgeoning noises rang out from the door; was Propeller Knight to blame, or perhaps someone on his crew? Donovan preferred not to find out.

"I'm almost done," Luan said hurriedly as he tore through a crate in the corner of the room. "These paintings look expensive. I'm taking a few."

"Can you even carry all of those?" Donovan said in disbelief, eyeing Luan's bulky armful of stolen goods.

"It's fine," Luan scoffed as he gingerly stepped towards the door, swaying awkwardly the whole way. Donovan sighed and grabbed the wallet and staff from Luan's overburdened arms.

Suddenly, the sound of wood splintering pierced the air. Donovan caught a glimpse of his barricade failing as the door to the hold pressed against it.

"We have to go," he barked, sprinting towards the opposite end of the hold. Luan clambered after him.

Rough footsteps rang out from behind them as they ran. Donovan scrambled around boxes and corners, hoping that this hold had an exit on the other side. A few times he held Luan's paintings to allow Luan to descend. Even encumbered by the dreadful things, Luan was still far more spry than he had any right to be.

Eventually Donovan reached a large, cavernous room in the belly of the ship. Three platforms sprung out from the wall, and there was little light.

"This can't be a dead end…" Donovan hissed as he lit his lantern.

"It's not!" Luan suddenly shouted excitedly. "Look! Bay doors to the outside. We just need to open them."

"So we can go where, exactly?" Donovan snapped. "Out the door and down the cliff?"

Luan frowned. But they didn't have long to ruminate-- something gold glimmered at the other end of the launch bay. Donovan squinted in the poor light. What was that thing?

As it drew near, Donovan realized that it was a miniature golden ship with three sets of propellers. Donovan drew his blade. They were in for it now.

Then the pilot stood up from his position at the front.

"Luan Seatlan?" a hedgehog said in surprise. 

Luan squinted. "Ledge Farmer? What in blazes are you doing here??"

"I work as a pilot, silly!" Ledge said with a genial laugh.

"For Propeller Knight?" Donovan said in disgust.

Angry footsteps boomed out from overhead.

"I'd love to catch up and chat, but we're in a bit of a situation," Luan said apologetically. "Donovan and I need to leave the ship."

"With Propeller Knight's stolen goods?" Ledge Farmer said curiously.

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?" Donovan said bluntly.

Ledge laughed. "Not one bit. It's about time someone showed that fool a taste of his own medicine anyhow."

Donovan blinked. He hadn't actually expected Ledge to go along with this.

Ledge threw a lever on the wall, opening the bay doors into the open air beyond. 

"Come aboard the Dinghy Dropper," Ledge said gregariously. "With all three of us pedaling, we can make it some distance away before Propeller gets the ship turned around. But you'll have to hurry."

Donovan heard angry shouting from somebody descending the ladder above them.

"That won't be a problem," he said, hurrying to take the seat in the middle.

As the thud of a falling combatant boomed out behind them, the drivers of the Dinghy Dropper pedaled away into the distance.

Luan laughed uproariously as they flew into the sky, the propellers of the Dropper spinning triumphantly above them. "This might be our most daring escape yet," he said from behind Donovan.

"Oh, we're not out of trouble yet," Ledge said worriedly.

Sure enough, a boom of cannonfire followed shortly, and Ledge steered them sharply out of the way. Donovan felt the whistle of wind on his face as a cannonball passed through the airspace he'd occupied a moment before 

"Hold on tight, and keep pedaling!" Ledge shouted, and Luan clasped his stolen paintings all the tighter for it. Then Ledge steered the Dinghy Dropper into a steep nosedive, pulling up at the last moment to avoid another explosive volley of cannonfire. The cannonballs buried themselves in the earth with an ominous boom.

"Get ready for a tight squeeze!" Ledge shouted as he piloted them through the narrow canyon walls below them. The cliff face passed by on each side, dangerously close. Donovan had to duck to avoid an outcropping of rock. But after several minutes of twisting and turning through the passage, they reached a hidden grotto in the depths of the mountain.

Ledge Farmer landed them here, and Luan whooped with excitement as he exited.

"A happy ending to this sorry venture, eh, Donovan?" he said with a grin.

Donovan stood up from the small ship, shaken by what they had just experienced. "I think I prefer the security of stable ground right now," he said a little woozily. He wasn't scared of heights exactly, but the day's misadventures had been enough for him regardless.

Ledge Farmer laughed. "You get used to it," he said reassuringly. "Anyhoo, we should leave the Dinghy Dropper here. Taking it would only draw Propeller Knight's ire, and we've done enough of that already!"

"Fine by me," Luan shrugged. "I have my prize. What will you do next, though?"

Ledge thought for a moment. "I think it's time for me to find a new crew," he decided. "A gentleman named Cooper has a fine vessel. Perhaps he could use me aboard."

"Will you ever come back to the Village to visit?" Luan teased. "I'm sure Farmer would love your help on the farm."

"Why do you think I left?" Ledge laughed. "I've farmed enough ground for a lifetime. I farm ledges now. But that tyke of yours must have grown a bit since I last saw him. Maybe I'll come back for that."

"Reize was only an infant then when you would have seen him. Now he's walking and talking a bit," Luan offered.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that for myself!" Ledge said warmly. "I'll think about it."

Donovan shook his head a bit, trying to rid it of the lingering vertigo.

"Shall we be on our way?" he said, perhaps a little more tersely than he meant to.

Luan laughed. "I think Donovan wants to get out of here," he said knowingly. "And I have to find a toy for Reize or he'll never forgive me for going on this mission in the first place."

Ledge perked up suddenly. "You know there's a toy factory not far from here," he said eagerly. "A kindly fellow runs it in a tower of his own making. You should pay a visit."

Luan raised an eyebrow. "Where might we find this place?"

\---

After receiving directions and exchanging some more pleasantries, they parted ways with Ledge Farmer, who headed for the Crag of Cards in hopes of meeting Cooper.

"Ledge is a fine fellow. A shame he isn't around the homestead more often," Luan remarked as they traveled.

"I suppose. You know him better than I do," Donovan said with a shrug.

"Not particularly," Luan replied. "I've only met him and Edge once, at Reina's funeral, same as you."

Had Donovan met them there? That whole day was a blur in his memory.

"No, I didn't go to the funeral," Donovan remembered. "It was… too many people."

Luan exhaled brusquely. "That was why I felt I had to go," he admitted. "Here there were all these people who knew Reina, even the sides of her that I didn't. I had to go, to understand…"

Luan kicked at a rock on the mountainous path, lost in thought for a moment. "Do you think you can ever really know a person?" he asked quietly. "I loved her, but even after our months together, I didn't feel like I truly knew her. I could have spent a lifetime learning all of her secrets. I wonder what that would have been like."

Donovan shrugged.

"Perhaps our love was too new," Luan continued. "Every moment with her was fireworks. I'm sure that would have faded eventually. What would have awaited us on the other side? Would we have grown bored of each other? Or would we have settled into that comfortable familiarity, like…"

Luan trailed off suddenly.

"Like what?" Donovan urged. He was curious.

"Nothing," Luan said abruptly. "It's just… when you're around a person long enough, you get… used to them, you know? Like a permanent fixture in your life. Growing up at the Estates, I just… expected my brothers to be there. They weren't strangers or guests, just a familiar presence. You know?"

Donovan thought about it, but he wasn't sure he did know, actually. His older sister had left when he was quite young, and his father's presence had never been familiar so much as dangerous. In fact, the only person in his life who might have met that description was...

"Or maybe you don't," Luan said suddenly, embarrassed. "Sorry. I just… I wanted that. For me and Reina. But there wasn't enough time…"

Donovan shrugged, unsure what to say. "I'm sure it would have been nice," he finally managed.

"Yeah..." Luan said distantly before trailing off. They walked in silence after that.

\---

A few hours later, they reached the tower Ledge had described, although Donovan could hear the gentle whir of machinery well before they entered its vicinity.

The metallic structure was only a few stories tall, still under construction, and full of strange gears and wheels on its exterior. It stuck out from its surroundings like a sore thumb. 

"I wonder what kind of enterprising fellow would build a place like this?" Luan wondered aloud.

Donovan shrugged and knocked on the front door. Several seconds later, a tiny man in a welding helmet opened the door.

"I don't get a lot of guests out here," he said with a laugh. "What can I-- wait, do I know you?"

Luan raised his eyebrows. "You're that fellow from the tournament. Tinker Fighter, I believe?"

"Tinker Knight now!" Tinker said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"And you finally got that land you wanted," Luan said warmly. "My heartfelt congratulations to you."

"No hard feelings from the sine dagger incident?" Tinker said bashfully. "I still feel bad about that."

"Of course not! It's water under the bridge," Luan said dismissively. "Although I'd love to hear the tale of how you achieved knighthood."

"By all means, come in!" Tinker said, gesturing for them to come in.

Inside they found a humble dining room and hearth. Luan set his paintings down, they sat down and had a drink, and Tinker told his tale.

After Donovan had beaten him in the winter tournament a few years back, nobody received knighthood that year. Rumors abounded about who this mysterious "Cloak Fighter" might be and what might possess him to decline knighthood.

The following year, the contracts for signing up were altered to forbid declining knighthood after winning the tournament, and many enterprising folks signed up claiming to be the elusive Cloak Fighter. This time, Tinker Knight won a series of hard-fought battles, including a difficult match against Mole Knight to gain knighthood himself. He then took his winnings and built his toymaking tower, just as he said he would.

"I'm happy to see you met with success," Luan said at the conclusion of the tale.

"Thanks! Though I can't put our match out of my mind," Tinker said turning to Donovan. "You fought like a mad man, and I've seen nothing like it before or since."

"Thanks," Donovan said stiffly.

"A shame you didn't come back the next year!" Tinker said with amicable disappointment. "I hoped for a rematch."

"Perhaps some day," Donovan replied evenly.

Tinker laughed.

"Tinker Knight, I must ask a favor," Luan said, changing the subject. "I have a young son of two years old. I fear I've been away from home too long, and I'd like to bring him back something."

"Well, you've come to the right place!" Tinker said, standing up from his armchair. "I'll even give you a discount to make up for the sine dagger thing."

"If you insist!" Luan laughed.

"So what'll it be? I've got blocks, wheeled trolleys…"

Luan ultimately purchased several toys, enough to delight Reize for now and provide for his next birthday to boot, Donovan reasoned.

"Thanks for the business! You can have this as thanks for the bulk order," Tinker said, handing over one more toy.

"What's this?" Luan asked, inspecting it curiously. The curved piece of metal seemed to have no immediately obvious purpose.

"A boomerang prototype," Tinker replied. "I've refined the design since then, but your kid might have some fun with this one."

"Well, I thank you for it," Luan said gracefully. "I ought to be on my way, but it's been a pleasure."

"Same here! Feel free to stop by anytime!" Tinker said as he saw them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, I promise. Busy, but not dead


End file.
